The Arrangement
by GingerRoseLee
Summary: An unplanned pregnancy creates an unusual yet loving familial situation for Joss and John. Post-Crossing S3, AU, Rated T for some adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: People keep asking me for a Careese baby story, so here you go, your darn baby story, haha! Just kidding, just kidding. Enjoy this, and leave a comment if you feel. Thanks!**

 **Disclaimer: None of these characters nor POI belongs to me. Just here for its and grins.**

The storm had started just when the forecast said it would, and it was just as severe as predicted. Flash flooding, lightening, windswept rain, accidents left and right. But John wasn't stopping for anything. He had to get there. He would get there. He had survived bomb blasts in Tikrit and Kabul; a little rainy wind wasn't going to hold him back. He had to get home. Home, to see his family. Joss and their baby son, Aaron, who was all of eight months old, the lights of his life were worth risking his neck in near-blinding rain to be with.

The back trunk was packed with diapers and new baby clothes, varied size 12-24 months, just as Joss had instructed, since their boy was growing bigger by the day, and she wanted to get more use out of his playsuits and shoes, and even toys before she gave them away to the Goodwill. He also made sure to pick up three cases of formula, multipacks of baby food, wipes, and a few things for little Aaron from the toy store. A small knapsack of clothes for himself were in the back seat. He had enough items for a week's stay, even with laundry access, and he also managed to pick up a few groceries for the house while he was at it.

It was the fourth week of the month. The time when he got the chance to be a father to Aaron, hands-on, as well as bond more with Taylor, and to love Joss up close and personal. No numbers, no bad guys, no burner phone—just uninterrupted family time with the boys and their mother. For they had a set up that, while it was not ideal, worked for the time-being. It had to. The numbers were his vocation, his calling, and he couldn't just abandon the people he'd taken a personal oath to protect now that he was a dad. Some other man, perhaps. But not John Reese. It wasn't easy, and he knew that Joss bottled up a lot of things she wanted to say about that. But he'd finally managed to, serendipitously as he had, get everything he'd ever wanted throughout a life of brutality and loss: a family of his very own.

The wipers swished furiously back-and-forth on the windshield, the engine roared steady and sure. It was as if they understood the urgency of his travel through such treacherous conditions. It was as if they knew he needed, more than anything else, to see his loves, to hold them, touch them, to love them as much as he humanly could. Not one drop of this week's time could any of them afford to waste.

##

"Heeeyyy, l'il man! Is mommy's big boy awake? Yes?" Joss cooed softly to her baby, his tiny little head popped up and bobbing from the mattress, a tossle of thick curls atop it. She came gently into the nursery as he began to gurgle and babble his greetings to her, upon waking up from his nap. A toothless smile, bigger than the world, was Joss' to hold and cherish for the rest of her days, and she, so in love with her second son—as much as she was her first one when he was that age—laughed at his sweetness and scooped up her little sweet pea into the warm embrace of her mommy arms.

Lying him down on the nearby table, Joss got Aaron ready for his diaper change. After his naps, he always needed a change, even if he had had one before being put down. At eight months, he had power over his movements, and it was a challenge to keep him still long enough to get him changed. Joss couldn't help but laugh at his antics, while always emerging victorious in the battle of baby and diaper. Definitely his father's son.

And he looked so much like his daddy it made her tremble. The only thing of her she saw in his face was her color, a soft brown like the hue of the finest sandy beach. But the shape of his light brown eyes, the crook of his little nose, his chin, the distinguished forehead and jet-dark hair were all John's. And if she didn't know it, she could have sworn his lips already pursed into daddy's trademark smirk.

The baby hadn't been planned, of course; after the ambush and take down of HR, when the pair thought they might lose each other to the brutality of police corruption, they found a way to turn their stalwart friendship into a desperate passion, a passion that thrilled and surprised them both as they clung to one another for safety in the storm, and gave into the burgeoning feelings they'd been harboring for months prior.

It hadn't shocked Joss a few months later when she"d missed her period. That wasn't so unusual from time to time. But when the nausea came, waves of sick that rolled over her belly and lurched to and fro, she then realized something had happened to change the dynamic between her and John forever. A confirmation from her doctor was the bow on top of the box.

Abortion wasn't an option. Whether or not John wanted to be involved in this baby's life was irrelevant. She would have her child, and figure it all out as it came along. John was in mute shock at first, his usual masculine aloofness a cover for a torrent of feelings about what it all meant. But as the reality of doctor appointments, ultrasounds, baby clothes, mobiles, Joss' mood swings, cravings, and expanding waistline became more real, it was as if he'd been born to the role of expectant father. When it was time for the baby to be born, he was right there, open handed to catch the baby as it made its way into the world.

And now, they had their baby. He was a wonderful daddy, even if he could only be there one week out of the month. Taylor, who never thought he'd ever have another sibling was over the moon, in love with his baby brother from the day she told him that she was expecting. Thankfully, her oldest boy wasn't the kind to judge the bizarre situation as it stood. She chalked that up to him having had to roll with the punches between her and his dad, which, while painful for him to go through, probably prepared him for life more than anything else could have. And he liked John, so that was an even bigger bonus.

Aaron dribbled and drooled over the blanket Joss put over her shoulder, once he was fresh in his new diaper. He was teething, and having an easier time of it than earlier in the day. She was glad he had been able to nap, the discomfort making her poor boy miserable, even with the plastic teething rings she gave him. She nuzzled his chubby little cheeks with a grin.

"You know what, baby? Daddy's coming. Yes! Daddy is coming to see us! But you knew that, didn't you? You always know when Daddy's coming, hmm, baby? Oh, you know he loves you so much. I just hope this storm doesn't keep him away. Because we miss Daddy, don't we? He's been gone for such a long time..."

The two little nubs of his first two teeth showed themselves as he gave her another wide-mouth grin and a hiccup that ended on a gurgle. He was adorable, and his big smile only made Joss squeeze him tighter.

A few moments later, Joss heard the front door open. She clutched baby Aaron closer to her as she approached the top of the stairs and saw John there, clad in jeans and a leather jacket, his hair soaked with rain in the darkness of the early evening. Weighed down with the usual parcels of diapers and formula, he shook off the rain as best he could and then, once he'd taken care to remove his shoes and jacket before stepping on the carpet, took in the sight of his sweet family from the bottom. Little Aaron immediately began to giggle, his entire little face lighting up at the goofy face his father made for him.

"Hi, little guy! Hi! There's my good boy! Oh, yes, there's my good boy!" John put the bags down by the door and closed it to keep the rain out. Joss smiled at John and, without any words, carefully walked down the steps and handed Aaron over to his father, who was doing the best job an eight month old could do to get away from her and into John's arms, squealing and cooing all the way. Father and son reunited, they held on to each other, little Aaron's fingers digging into his daddy's shirt, John nuzzling him close for a kiss on the cheek. The boy smelled of baby shampoo and cereal. His curly hair tangled around John's fingers.

As wonderful as it was to hold his son again, the picture was incomplete. Lifting his head to see her, see the mother of this amazing boy standing there was enough to fill his heart with so much love, he thought he'd burst.

"Come here, sweetheart," he said, extending his arm to her. She sank into the safety, into the strength of him, and everything was all right. Everything was perfect.

Showering both of them now with kisses, John was home. The storm outside, all the storms he'd faced until this moment were no match for the bright rays of love spreading through that tiny little brownstone in Brooklyn.

 **A/N: It's not over yet. Next up, a night and day in the life of a vigilante and his unorthodox family. Warning: a little smut might come into the equation in that context, but we'll see. Hope you all like this one, and please read and review. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And we're back with Chap 2! Settling in, Daddy duty (in more ways than one, ahem), all kinds of goodies. The Man in the Suit's got it down. Enjoy the read (I hope), and thanks!**

 **Pardon any typos (I had a couple hours to do this quickly).**

 **The LR lyrics at the end, not mine, of course, but always a beautiful song to hear.**

The nasty summer storm continued to thrash and rage in the darkness outside, the only light to be seen was that illuminating the sky, as well as the odd end glow from windows on the block where the power hadn't been knocked out. Joss' place was one of those fortunate few that had been spared up to that point, though the flickering lights told them all that the possibility was never that far off. They could hear the wind howling and the hailstones beating against the glass panes, and Joss couldn't remember the last time New York had gotten hit so hard with this kind of madness.

That was probably because she'd been too busy to notice the weather's wild ways. She'd been working so hard, for years, at being one of the finest NYPD homicide detectives to ever wear the badge. In the time since having had Aaron, she realized she'd missed a lot of things in that time, much of it related to Taylor and his growth as a young boy. When he was a toddler, she had been deployed in Iraq, fielding danger and death in order to interrogate suspected terrorists in service to her country, leaving him in the dependable and loving care of her mother and Paul's family, while he was in semi-active duty with her. The landmine that took out a fellow soldier in Fallujah nearly took her too, away from her precious Taylor forever—but that didn't stop her from extending the tour as soon as she was fit for duty again. Military hospitals specialized in making that happen. Then came the lure of law school. When practicing law didn't fulfill the desire, she turned to upholding it on the streets, badge and gun in hand.

But this time was different. Having come so close to losing it all, again, by going head-to-head with Quinn and HR, she realized she wasn't invincible, that her first child could have lost his mother for good this time. She couldn't keep making his life hell by risking her own anymore. And then, God sent her Aaron John Reese, as he'd been named. The incentive for a different path increased a hundred fold.

Now, her time was spent with Aaron and Taylor at home, while she put the law degree she had to good use, doing rather lucrative freelance legal consulting for the court system, as well as teaching an online course for John Jay College of Criminal Justice. That kept her abreast of her former life in service to the city—but allowed her to forego the danger of the streets, as well as keep her from letting daycare be witness to the milestones of her baby's growth instead of her.

Taylor had had wonderful preschool teachers, filling in the gaps that her career left for him to navigate as best he could, however; so she knew its value well, and as soon as Aaron was old enough, she'd have him enrolled in the very same program. It was just that now, since she had the advantage a lot of mothers didn't have, she'd utilize it.

She'd be her baby's teacher. She'd also be more of a presence in her teenager's life and experiences towards manhood. She'd be the mom she never thought she could be.

A second chance for her. A new beginning for her.

Well, her and John, she supposed. If only he were on the same wavelength. If only he would consider letting Finch and Shaw fend for themselves a bit and spend more than one week a month with her and their son. She understood John and his need to put his Special Forces and CIA training to some better use than what the US government had asked him to. She knew his heart and why he had to have it this way. They had discussed it countless times. And they would more than likely discuss it again, with John giving her the same answer he always did, even if, yes, she did understand. It still didn't stop her heart from warring with her brain. It still didn't stop her wanting to change the narrative. Though the words might vary, the theme was always the same:

" _This is my purpose, Joss. The numbers. Those people out there need help. I need to help them. You know that. You know me."_

" _Your son needs you, too, John. And I...I need you. One would think that would be enough to get a man to adjust his ways."_

" _Joss, if I adjusted my ways, I don't think you'd like the results," he'd say with a mischievous smirk before turning serious again. "Honey, look, you have me. I'm right here, right now, for you and the baby. And when I'm not here physically, I call every day, don't I? And I try to keep watch every night, for hours, before I go to my apartment, whether you know I'm there or not, just so I know that you're all right."_

" _John, that's wonderful, it is. And we know you love us. But maybe it's not enough. Sometimes, Aaron will cry and cry, and no matter what I do for him, it doesn't help until he cries himself to sleep. He's not sick, he's not hungry, he's not generally fussy to that extent in the least. But he misses his daddy. That's what it is. Remember that time when you called and you heard him screaming his head off? And then you said, 'here, put him on the phone, Joss.' I did, and as soon as he heard your voice, he calmed down. And he was okay. And he never does that when you're here with him. He adores you. And his little heart breaks when you're gone so long."_

And John would sigh, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, and remind her, once again, why, even with HR gone, and Donnelly, and Kara Stanton, and all the other crazy shit they'd been through over the past few years, it was still too dangerous for him to be there with her all the time, for them to let their guard down. New threats to their lives popped up all the time. And when she'd ask him to explain further, he'd just say, _"trust me, Joss. I can't talk about it. It's just too dangerous. Please, can you just trust me, and know that I love you and our kids? Can you do that? I know it's not ideal, but it's the best I can do for now."_

And then, she'd nod and say " _okay. You win. For now like you said. But I won't stop trying to convince you, John. I did it, figured out a way to serve this city while being a mother to my children. You can too. No matter the danger. But I can't make you do that. You have to decide if we're more important to you than New York City is."_

" _There's no question about that, Joss. Not a one. I do what I do to protect my family. That's all I can tell you."_

##

"Ah, God...so, so sweet..." John pressed deeper, his arousal sheathed tightly, warmly inside Joss' body. They were furious for one another, the baby not being the only one to miss the effect John had in their house, in their lives. That month between John's visits also meant no sex for Joss, and by the time they crawled into bed together after Aaron's bedtime bath and bottle, she was out of her mind with desire. He was equally lusty, equally starved for her touch, and together, they fought to keep their hot loving quiet for the sake of the children sleeping amongst them. Luckily, Taylor was spending a few weeks at his father's house. Because on this night, there was no way to hold back the passion each pulled and feasted on from one another.

"OH! John! Oh! Give it to me...yes! Don't stop...oh..."

"Like that, Joss? Hmm? Like that? That good? Yeah, that's it, lady. Tell me you love it the way I do it..." John purred seductively against her ear before expertly changing her position, so that one leg was over his shoulder, while spreading her at a wide angle, and treating her vulva to yet another onslaught of his demanding love. She answered him soon enough, as the build up of friction inside her walls, as well as the grinding contact of his pelvis against her clit sent the shockwave of a most delicious, hip-gyrating orgasm throughout her body, shattering her into a million pieces.

"Aaaaaaawwwwhhhhh, Jaaaaaahhhnn...oh my God, oh my God...mmmm..." The Lord's name wasn't taken in vain at that instance, because only the divine could have created something so wonderful as what he had just given her. She continued to hum and wail as she dug her nails into his back and his speed increased with the tremors he felt, and throwing his own head back, he soon growled out his own climax, sweat pouring from his face and chest despite the low-running AC in the background.

"Wow, Joss...oh, wow...Jesus, I think I might have just put another baby in there..." he trailed off with a breathless grin.

Equally out of breath, her breasts rising and falling, "well, then, if that's the case...you'd better...be prepared to be here more often, numbers and danger be damned."

John pulled out of her and fell to her side with a heavy sigh, his eyes closed, arm slung over his head. "Joss, we've gone over this..."

"Yes, we have. And I told you, we'd be going over it until something was different."

"Well, unfortunately, my dear, the world has not become 'different.' It's still the same shit world it's been—and it only gets more harrowing each day."

"What? You don't think I can take care of myself? Is that it? I was a cop, John. A damn good one. I brought down HR. I saved your life countless times. I can handle it if you can."

John pursed his eyes together tightly, as if what she was saying he really didn't want to hear. Probably, because, well, he didn't want to hear it. But if she was spoiling for it, he'd go there—yet again.

"Sweetie, listen, you are one hell of a detective. Of course you can handle it. But I don't want you to have to be put in that position again, Joss. Especially now, with Aaron. And Taylor has been happy that you've been here for him after school now, you know that. It wouldn't do either one of our boys any good if both their parents were out running around, trying to stay one step ahead of the bad guys in the shadows. Let me keep taking that on. Just...let me do that. Please."

"And it's okay to our boys for you to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, is that it, John? I gave up that life. I'm not saying I want it back, in the least. You shouldn't want it, either, but if something happens where I need to take up arms again, I can do that. However, unless and until that day comes, I'm here for them, 24/7. Our kids need you to stick around here, too. Now, Taylor has a dad, sure—but he's come to depend on your influence as much as Aaron does. This affects him just the same, even if he is older."

"Joss, dammit, I'm doing the best I can here, for all involved. I know you don't believe that, but I am, really. I keep my family under the radar, you stay alive. Period." John said, the loving afterglow of their sexual coupling slowly fading. "Christ, I can't believe you want to start this now, now after everything that just happened here. Killing the mood, babe." When his attempt at levity was met with silence, he continued, " Look, like I said, I know it's not ideal, but I can't see-"

Just then, the baby monitor on the nightstand vibrated the cry of their little angel in the next room. It started out as just a few hiccups, but pretty soon turned into a full symphony of cranky-baby. Arguing aside now, both John and Joss turned their full attention from the long term needs of family stability to the short-term ones of a squawling baby awake in the middle of the night.

"I'll get him," John said softly.

"Okay," Joss replied, with a sigh. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me, Joss. He's my son. I thought he was sleeping through the night more now," John gave her a puzzled look in the dim of lamplight he'd put on next to the baby monitor.

"He does, usually. Every once in a while, I think he has bad dreams and he'll wake up crying from them, our poor baby."

"Aww, yeah. Okay." He pulled on his jammie flannel bottoms under the loose summer quilt and got up. His broad back filling the space of the doorway, he turned the corner and was in Aaron's nursery. Soon, Joss could hear father cooing to his son over the baby monitor and telling his son that everything was okay and that Daddy was here.

"What's the matter, little man, hmm? Did you have a bad dream, my boy? Come here, come here, yes, it's okay, honey. Yes, it's okay, Daddy's here, and he loves you. He's not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise."

John picked Aaron up out of his crib and the boy's crying diminished until all there was to hear was a little bit of contented gurgling. But soon, John realized that his son still had a little problem, one that reached his father's now-wrinkled nose. True to form, Aaron had left a little gift in his diaper, just for Daddy this time, and John chuckled when he realized what that gift was.

"Ugh, little man, you did a stinky-stink, didn't you? Yes, you did! A stinky-stink!" Each time he said the phrase 'stinky-stink' Aaron giggled, which prompted John to do it some more, which only made Aaron giggle more. After a moment, both of them were laughing. And in their bedroom, Joss laughed too at the sounds of her men together and happy.

John got the changing table ready, as well as all the items he'd need to get the job done: scented wipes, a fresh diaper, and the special ointment against diaper rash. All these things he fetched from their respective dresser drawers and set up while holding Aaron on one arm. He was an old pro at this, his one-week-a-month forcing him to pick up the ins and outs of parental multitasking quickly. Easily, his biggest challenge had been learning which way to position the diaper so that the tapes fit properly and so it wasn't on backwards. Admittedly, that took him a while, and he'd look on enviously at Joss, who having done this before, could change a diaper with her eyes closed. But, he was determined. And now, no one could tell John Reese anything about it.

The teddy bear onesie put to one side, John cleaned up the baby thoroughly, who had indeed made a 'stinky' during the night, while singing to him. It was John's method of keeping his boy still on the table, unlike his mother, who just wrestled with him until she got what she needed done. Aaron was mesmerized by his father's voice, and before he knew it, he had on a fresh, clean diaper on his fresh and clean bottom. Teddy bear onesie back on, John discarded the diaper in the pail, cleaned his hands with some of the wipes, and scooped his little boy into his arms. "Let's go see Mommy, hmm? Wanna go see Mommy? Yes, let's see her, let's see Mommy." Aaron cooed in agreement, and after John picked up one or two of his favorite toys on the way out, pretty soon the baby joined his parents in their bed for a little late-night quality time.

Joss was a nursing mother this go round, an experience she didn't get to have much with Taylor when he was a baby. She had about six weeks worth of milk to give him before it stopped and she had to switch to bottle feeding exclusively. Plus, she was always on-call to the military after the Towers fell, so the stress of that, the anticipation, along with the usual anxiety of first-time motherhood, made things a bit harried when it came to her eldest child. This time, however, she was able to provide milk to Aaron right up to this point—though now, with his teeth coming in, she was beginning to ween him off a little, hence the three cases of formula John brought home. She alternated during the day, nursing him in the mornings, and then using the formula, mixing in just a little bit of cereal, and supplementing that with a little bit of the strained baby food from the organic food shop near their home.

But on occasions like this, when he'd wake up in the night crying, she'd often nurse him, the contact providing him all the comfort he needed, as much as the nutritional benefits. When John brought him to her, she sat up in the bed and offered her baby her nipple, which he eagerly attached his little mouth to, pulling and sucking, his eyes closed in contentment. She smiled down at him, and gently began rocking him back and forth. She'd wince if those little teeth began to nip at her, but they weren't so broken through that she couldn't still offer her breasts to him. She was glad for that.

John was taken aback. Never had he seen Joss more beautiful, more desirable than at this moment. Her breasts, full of milk for their son, didn't stir him with desire as they had several moments before, but instead with tenderness. She was an amazing woman, who had borne him a son, a gorgeous healthy boy who looked just like him and who would carry on his name long after he was gone, even if that name wasn't all together his. He never thought he could have this. And it wasn't something he ever thought he'd have with her, of all people. But there they were, his woman and his son, right there in front of him. His heart cried out in happiness. And he found himself having to fight back tears that had suddenly pooled at the sides of his eyes. He cleared his throat instead.

"Had to change him first. 'Cause somebody made a stinky-stink while he was sleeping," he said in that goofy way he did. Aaron, not missing a beat, took a second to stop sucking and started cooing in laughter once more. Joss laughed too.

"Yes, I heard all that commotion over the baby monitor. You're made for each other."

"Yes," John said, wistfully. "Yes, it would appear so. I'd say we were all made for each other." Snuggling closer to them in bed, John once again covered Joss' face, neck, and shoulders with kisses, which she thirstily accepted, while Aaron caught his large forefinger in his tiny hand. Leaning over, John then rubbed his boy's head before covering him with kisses too. As Aaron continued to coo contentedly at his mother's breast, John began to sing again, this time, the words to Lionel Richie's "Lady" coming to mind for some odd reason:

 _Lady_

 _For so many years I thought I'd never find you_

 _You have come into my life and_

 _Made me whole..._

John continued singing until Aaron was fast asleep again. Playtime could wait until the morning when the two boys would make up for lost time. But when Joss moved to quietly put him back in his crib, John stopped her.

"No, no, Joss. Let him stay with us tonight. He's already asleep. Let's just let him stay here. I've...missed my boy so much. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay, John. He'll sleep with us." She kissed him soundly before settling herself and Aaron into bed under the light blanket. Turning out the lamp, John, too, settled in and pulled his little family close to him, wrapping them in an embrace of love and protection.

They were so in tune with each other that they hardly noticed the difference outside their bedroom window. The raging storm had ceased—for now. For now.

 **A/N: Whaddya think, guys? Should I continue this one? Aaron's probably got a few more "stinky-stinks" for John to change anyway. :-) And perhaps, this could have a Samaritan tie-in, since that's what's been in my head as John's secret reason for not being able to fully commit to Joss and the baby as she'd like him to, and as he really wants to. This does, take place, after all after S3...**

 **Well, in any case, I hope you like this as well and please give a holler if you feel. Thanks and happy reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here we have Chapter 3. John, Joss, and the baby basically basically behave as families with very young babies do. They have six days before John goes back into the field again. So, this may be a rather boring story, actually, depending on your outlook, haha. But that's the whole point: John gets respite from the numbers (and possibly Samaritan), Joss gets some help raising their son, and Aaron gets the benefit of both parents. It's possible that I may subtitle any subsequent chaps with subheadings like "Day 1," "Day 2," etc., but I haven't decided on that yet.**

 **Pardon the typos (they'll be there, ha) and I hope you enjoy this installment as you have the other two. Thanks!**

The raging storm of the night before gave way to an early morning chill, unusual in the middle of a Brooklyn summer, but immensely welcome all the same. Instinctively, Joss made sure to tuck Aaron in more under the light blanket—and closer to her own body—to ward away any chill that was also coming from the low-level air conditioner in the bedroom. She didn't want to shut it all the way off, for the weather forecast promised that the usual summer haze would soon return, and the AC was a bear to deal with whenever she tinkered with it. Asking John was out of the question, though, his threatening to shoot it when it kept cutting on and off the month before told her all she needed to know about his skills with heating and cooling equipment. Calling the repairman was on the list of to do's, along with setting up play dates with the Smiths, her neighbors two doors down, who also had a little baby boy around Aaron's age.

They were all still sound asleep, except for Joss, snug in the confines of love. Having been on the same wavelength as this little boy sleeping next to her since before he was born, she was used to being the early riser, in anticipation of a full day of joys, frustrations, messes, laundry loads, nursing, colic, and all the other seemingly endless situations parents got into with their infant children. But she wouldn't trade any of it for anything. And though she'd had misgivings about having another child so long after her first baby, those soon gave way to her rolling up the sleeves and getting down to the work of starting over as soon as she let what her doctor had told her sink in: she was going to be a mother, again. Now, she couldn't imagine her life without both her sons in it—nor the man sleeping beside her.

Shesmiled when she heard John's steady snores from his side of the bed, and glanced up at him as he slept. When they first embarked on an intimate relationship, just after the HR takedown, she would watch him sleep then, too. He was restless in his slumber, tossing and turning, fidgity, as if he was a man who had never known peace and contentment in his entire life, even as he slept. She would watch him wrestle with whatever demons he wouldn't share with her, and her heart ached for the man he had been.

But now, he lie still, the lines of worry and stress in his beautiful face diminished, his body still, save for the rise and fall of his chest, and the occasional change of position. He was partially on his belly, with his large hand gently holding his infant son, who, through the muffle of the bobbing pacifier in his mouth, gurgled and hummed contentedly in his sleep in between them.

It was as if Aaron had picked up John's tendency to fret in his sleep too, as much as he had the prominent forehead and nose. He hadn't gone to sleep with the binky in his mouth, but attuned to his ways as she was, Joss was alerted to the slightest whimper or cry from her son at all times, and before he fully awakened from yet another sleep, she reached for one of the pacifiers she kept hanging from the bed post, hoping it would do the trick at least until morning, or else John's homecoming would have been most interesting, indeed. Luckily, it had done the trick, and soon, he settled down and continued to rest.

Now that the morning had dawned, however, Nature made it's call to Joss, and so she disentangled herself from the blankets, taking the warmth of her still naked body away from Aaron to get up for the bathroom. He began to stir and whimper almost immediately. But that was okay. John was there. Already, even in his own slumber, he was instinctively moving over to keep their boy next to him in the bed.

Aaron continued to whimper and stir, rooting his head and arm about, trying to reconnect with his mother. Pretty soon, he was awake and Joss knew that as he watched her walk around the bed, further and further away from him, his light brown eyes following her departure, that the little face would twist and scrunch up, and that the eruption of displeasure would soon happen.

And she was never wrong. As she reached the bedroom door, Joss saw her son's face transform into a maelstrom of fury, red, open-mouthed, with the binky dropped and somehow falling to the floor as it no longer had anchor between the lips of a screaming eight month old. She had just enough time to watch John wake up in reaction to his son howling and kicking in his teddy bear onesie before she scampered off to the toilet, lest there be a puddle to mop up from the wooden floor.

"Ohhhhh," John murmured, now jolted into the world of the wakened. He pulled up on his elbow and rubbed his eyes one-handed, then scooted Aaron closer to him. "Hey, Aaron, what's up, my boy? Hmm? Good morning...good morning...oh, you're fine...you're fine..."

There were those times when even John couldn't fully calm the maelstrom before it started, and this was one of them. Aaron had decided that he had grounds enough to be in a bad mood that morning, and he wouldn't be appeased until his mother came back to see about him. Additionally, Aaron was now able to sit up on his own and crawl, so keeping him still and in one place while he was fully awake was a challenge.

But it was a challenge John would attempt to meet. Sitting up in the bed now, he picked up his son and gently swung him above his head from side to side, googly eyes and airplane noises all apart of his arsenal. At first, Aaron wasn't impressed, still fussy and stubborn, but after a few rides on Daddy Airlines, the bawling turned to smiles and happy cooing. And as had happened the night before, John couldn't help laugh in kind in light of Aaron's joy, even with the drool of teething sliding down like spider's silk.

"You are a silly billy, aren't you? Yes, yes, yes! A silly billy! Ah, but so is Daddy. Daddy's a silly billy, too. But don't tell Mommy. The Man in the Suit's got a reputation to uphold," he whispered before lowering him down for a kiss, and a switch of game to horsie in his lap.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma..." Aaron babbled loudly, bouncing up and down while shoving his fingers into his mouth. "Mooommmmm..."

"Somebody calling me?" Joss returned from the bathroom to find Aaron in John's lap, using his fingers as a teething ring.

"Is he saying his first words now?" John asked, in awe as she rounded the bed and climbed back in. Even with the daily calls and the occasional Skype chat, which was risky, but worth it, he realized he still missed so much of his baby's growth. The month before, he wasn't as big as he was then, and there were no traces of teeth cutting through. But still, he was fortunate. He had fought with men in Iraq who'd never even seen their kids in person once they were born—and many of them, tragically, who never would.

"He's getting ready for talking. Not exactly 'words,' per se—but his babbling is a kind of pre-talking."

"God, he had a fit when you left the room. Wasn't sure I could pull it off," he said, winking at her, referring to his calming techniques on the baby.

"Mmm, I know that having Daddy around is a major boost for Aaron. I have no doubt in your abilities of persuasion, John." She stretched and yawned. "But then, somebody needs to let Mommy have a minute to pee. All I wanted to do, and I came back, huh? I don't wear diapers, little man. You need to chill out. Okay? All right? You little bad butt," she said grinning, and poking him in his little pot belly. He beamed at her in response.

John leaned over and kissed her. "Hmmm, good morning, sweetie."

"Good morning. You want some breakfast?"

"Shouldn't we give Aaron his bath, first?" he asked.

"Umm, might make sense to do that after breakfast. Aaron can get messy sometimes when I feed him in the high chair. And plus, we kinda chillax in the mornings. Sometimes, this boy won't get a bath till ten o'clock.

John nuzzled Aaron's head with a kiss. "Sounds like a plan to me. I wasn't sure if we had any in the house, so I picked up some stuff for pancakes. Is that okay? I have a feeling I have a lot of playing on my schedule this morning. I'll need the extra energy."

Joss leaned over and kissed him in kind, knowing of John's love for the flat food. "Your wish is my command, honey. Welcome home."

 **A/N: I'm having fun with this, so here's Part I of the first full day of John's home stay. Aaron's parents are lucky he's such a good baby, haha! The rest of the day, and days, will come along soon, again, full of all the mundane tasks of domesticity. But they aren't mundane for John (and not even Joss, to some extent, though she has more experience at parenthood with Taylor), so it indeed has been a joy to consider what he'd be like in fatherhood.**

 **Please drop a line, as usual, if you feel. Thanks so much for the feedback already received. I love all the encouragement. Be blessed!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Part II of John's first full day of the week with his little family. Perhaps a walk at the park for the day, after a little playtime—and a few laundry loads? Two kids, one under the age of two, and yes, there'd be some of that going on, haha.**

 **And of course, some more stinky-stink diapers, probably, hahaha (though from what I remember, formula poop wasn't so bad—just erm, plentiful)!**

 **Thanks again for reading. Cheers!**

In the eat-in kitchen, Aaron sat in his high chair, securely strapped, and banged away on his tray table with the sippy cup of diluted orange juice John had given him, while Joss prepared the pancakes, scrambled eggs and sausage for breakfast. Actually, what was in the cup was pretty much water with a hint of OJ, a little refreshment that he knew his son was rather fond of. That would keep him happy until his formula and cereal were fully prepared.

Joss had also cut up an apple, taking half of it for herself, and peeling and slicing the other half, in quarters, for the baby, his other tiny hand gripping the fruit tightly before awkwardly putting it to his mouth and pulling it away to investigate the yummy thing mommy had given him. That got him to stop banging the sippy cup on the tray. Pretty soon, the apple would be little more than mashed mush once Aaron Reese got through with it.

Aaron was quite fond of apple pieces, as well as goldfish and graham crackers, and Joss breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't as picky a baby about finger food as Taylor had been. Having not had another child to compare with before, she figured both her babies were going to be like that. But Aaron was nothing if not possessed of a fairly hearty appetite.

He was just like his daddy, who, upon smelling the aroma of the honey smoked sausages on the fire, patted his belly and smiled a beaming smile at Joss. "Mmmm, sausages. Can't wait. How many do I get?"

"How many do you want?" she asked, incredulously. Though his middle years were starting to show more on him—including in the midsection, he was still a remarkably fit and handsome man. All that running around after bad guys on the streets of New York left little chance for calories to pile up and make him fat. Plus, he had an affinity for sports like street basketball, and he lifted weights. All of that together kept him tall, slender—and fine. She was a lucky lady—and their baby would be just as handsome when he grew up. Hell, he already was.

"Oh, at least four. You know, a growing boy's gotta eat," he smirked playfully at her. "Speaking of which, hey, Aaron?" John tapped his finger on the baby's shoulder, trying to steer his attention away from the now-mushy apple in his hand. Aaron, do you smell those yummy pancakes on the griddle? Mommy makes the best pancakes. Would you like some yummy pancakes, too?"

When Aaron turned his head towards John, he stared at him, wide-eyed, while his father spoke to him. It was one of those gazes that John lived for: the boy's brown eyes widened in wonder, his little mouth, smeared with apple goo, formed in a bow; his chubby baby cheeks drooping adorably. And there he remained in rapt attention, until said attention was pulled away by his mother's scooping pancakes onto plates and walking them over to the table. The other breakfast items soon followed, and Aaron was now fully intrigued by what it all was that his mommy had put on the table.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma...boooozzzzz...mmmm...ma-ma-ma-ma..." he spoke, and then proceeded to bang his sippy cup on the tray table again.

"Don't worry, Aaron, baby. Mommy didn't forget you. Just hang on."

"At least he's being calm about it," John said, grinning. "Last time I was here, you couldn't get him that bottle fast enough. Huh, little guy? You were a hungry wee mite, weren't you?"

Aaron cooed in agreement with whatever his father said, before breaking into a happy squawk, bouncing in the chair and banging on the table even harder. Pretty soon, they all heard a clatter on the linoleum floor. The sippy cup had been soundly dropped. But that didn't bother Aaron. He continued to bang on the tray with his apple-smeared hands instead.

John laughed. "Uh-ohhhh! Oh, well, Aaron. There goes your juice."

Joss turned from the counter and after testing a heated bottle on her hand, deemed it sound, and handed it instead to Aaron, who was most happy to get it. Kicking his feet in anticipation, he reached up with both hands and promptly popped the nipple in his mouth, greedily sucking down his breakfast. John pulled the high chair closer to his own to keep a better eye on him, as well as to fix his bib, this one bedecked with puppies and sunflowers.

Joss finished setting the breakfast table, then sat down next to Aaron on the other side of his high chair. John began to dig in, pulling the syrup towards him, as well as the orange juice and coffee. Through the pulling and sucking on his bottle, Aaron watched his father's every move.

Pretty soon, he couldn't resist the temptation, and with all the gusto he could muster, threw the nearly empty bottle on the floor along with the sippy cup, and began straining his little body against the confines of the high chair to reach John's meal, his frustration level mounting with each foiled attempt to get his hands on any part of Daddy's food.

John, on instinct, reacted to his son's behavior with just a touch of irritation. "Aaron, no! Not nice." he said sternly, picking up the bottle and the sippy cup from the floor. Getting up to rinse off the nipple, he returned it to the child—who proceeded to promptly toss it on the floor again. This time, John was a bit more annoyed, and his voice was sterner.

"Aaron, stop. Stop. No. No. Not okay," he said, shaking his head and locking eyes with the baby.

The boy froze in his seat at his father's voice, all fussing and whimpering ceased. He fixed on John the same wide-eyed stare he had before. He then turned it on Joss, who was watching the whole scene with amusement. She threw up her hands.

"Don't look at me, Aaron. You heard your daddy. He said 'no.' That's what he means. And you know that word already."

John, not one to stay grouchy with his boy, soon became amused, too, by his antics, and opted to make a deal with him. "Ah, you'll never get it that way. Hmm? You want a little bit, honey? You want some of mommy's yummy pancakes?"

Aaron answered, as he could, in the affirmative.

"Okay, here. There we go. Mmmm, yummmm..." John took a tiny piece of pancake without syrup, and placed the bite-sized morsel there, making sure it went all the way in his mouth. Aaron's way of breaking down solid food without teeth was to stick his tongue and lips out, back-and-forth, until the food broke down and he could swallow it. Combined with his wide-eyed stare, his little sweet pea face and tousled hair, he was simply adorable, and John's heart exploded in love for his boy all over again. How had he done it? How had he lived all these years without this feeling, this experience of being a father to such a precious child as Aaron? How?

And how would he keep up the arrangement he had with his mother without it breaking that very same heart, each time he had to do it again? How would he be able to leave them, this time?

"John? You okay, baby?" Joss asked, noticing his faraway look.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm okay. I'm...just...okay..." His voice was suddenly soft, wistful, even, and he tilted his head in resignation towards no direction in particular. He couldn't really describe what he was feeling at the moment, so he didn't try, lest he make a fool of himself as he had almost the night before.

But Joss knew him well, well enough that he didn't have to say anything. In fact, in all the time she'd known him, her discovery of him and how stubborn, unpredictable—and wonderful—he could be never came because he told her anything; he was like a closed book. At first, it annoyed her. But when she figured out that she could figure him out without the reveals, she felt much better about the whole situation. She just spent time with him, got to know him and trust him with her life and the well-being of the city.

And then, she came to love him. And that made all the difference.

"You're right. It is okay. We find our way, John, and it's okay. We find our way.

Putting her fork down, she took his hand into hers and squeezed. He responded, in turn, with a soft smile, a long, loving gaze, and then, a kiss to her upturned palm.

##

After breakfast, and a burp from Aaron that would blow the house down after his bottle, John got him settled for his morning baby bath in his little bathtub, while Joss threw the first of three laundry loads in the back hall washer. Having two children, one of which was under the age of two, in addition to herself, the laundry never seemed to stop coming. Taylor was old enough to do his own laundry, and sometimes he did; but she still liked to make that task her special project. Just because he was growing up so fast, nearly off to college, and just because she now had Aaron, didn't for a second mean that Taylor wasn't still her baby, too, and that she didn't still fuss over keeping him together.

He was her first-born, her pride and joy—and for such a long time it had just been the two of them. There was a special bond between them, different to the one she had with his little brother, and that would never change. She just hoped she'd learned enough from her mistakes in raising him that she wouldn't repeat the same ones second time around.

She had enough guilt to last her a lifetime over Taylor—but then, as her mother told her: "Chile, there's no rule book when it comes to raising children. I know that as well as anybody. You just do the best you can and hope it all works out for the best." So far, it had. Heading into his junior year, Taylor was doing well at Brooklyn Magnet, near the top of his class, and he was already beginning to take on college tour field trips, Penn State, UCONN, and Morehouse being three of his top interest schools. But the idea of her son being far away from home rankled her. UCONN wasn't so bad, she supposed, neither Penn State. But Morehouse was all the way in Georgia. They had some distant family there, cousins, an uncle, but no one Joss would know well enough to look out for her son, on his own for the first time.

There was still a little bit of time. He might just decide on Columbia or NYU, perfectly fine, top-tier schools right there in the City. Ultimately, she would support him in whatever he wanted to do, but she did hope he'd pick closer to home.

She should call him and see how he was faring with his dad. He would spend a few weeks in the summer with his father every year, along with every other weekend. Of course, now that he was older, she gave him more leeway in how much time he spent there. But so far, Taylor seemed content with the arrangement as it had been. Now that Aaron was here, he was most keen to be there for her and him as much as he could, especially without John being able to be home every night. She decided she'd check in on him before she put Aaron down for bed. That would make it seem as if she wasn't smothering him too much.

With the load in, Joss left the laundry room to wash up the breakfast dishes and then to her computer, to answer emails from her summer students. She had been able to schedule the John Jay class for two days a week with an hour and a half instruction time each class. It was an intro class, Constitutional Basics, and she provided weekly assignments that were submitted electronically. Generally, the class ran during Aaron's afternoon nap time, which was nice for her—and her students—but every once in a bit, he threw a wrench in the works and her students were treated to a bit of entertainment from the little show boater that was her son.

While she was on the computer, John returned downstairs with Aaron, now fully dressed in a baseball tee-shirt, denim shorts, and socks. His hair was damp from washing, and he smelled of BabyBaby Bubble Wash and lotion.

"Aaron's all fresh and clean! Yes, yes! Mmm, give Mommy huggies."

Aaron gurgled enthusiastically as he sat in his mother's lap with a teething ring in his hand. John wondered if another bib wouldn't be the best thing for him, since the drool threatened to make him a mess all over again.

"Joss, I was thinking: what do you say to us going down to Bentley Park this afternoon? All that storminess is over with, it will be a gorgeously hot day. Would love to get this little guy rolling around outdoors for a while."

Joss nodded her head in agreement. "Yes. Yes, I think that would be great. Just let me get that load of laundry I put in into the dryer. And both of us need showers too. We can take turns."

"Okay. You first. Always takes you longer anyway." he murmured under his breath, just enough so she could hear. His Special Forces training came in handy for moments when projectiles like the pencil eraser came at him from Joss' desk. Aaron, ever observant as he was, was fascinated by the pink thing with the little hole in it, as well as where it landed on the floor. Immediately, he he fought against his mother's restraint to get at that eraser. John grinned while picking it up.

"Uh-uh, my little fella. Not for you. And Mommy should know better," he teased. "Hmm, Aaron? Shouldn't she know better? Naughty Mommy."

Joss rolled her eyes playfully. "You'll get worse than that if you don't quit it. Here, take your son back. And you can put the clothes in the dryer." She handed Aaron back to his father with a kiss on his cheek and headed towards the stairwell—but not before John managed a quick swat to her bottom.

"Owoo!" she exclaimed with a start and a giggle. "John Reese, behave!"

"Get in the shower, woman. Aaron and I will have some fun down here on the floor."

Joss climbed the stairs leaving her two men in the living room. John decided to do a little preparation for the park trip by spreading out the floor quilt they used for Aaron to have free reign over the open space in the living room. Then, he got some of his favorite toys spread out and placed Aaron on the blanket, on his knees. When he'd last been home, Aaron's crawling was coming along, though he still tumbled over on his side from time to time.

Now, however, the boy was a pro, easily outpacing John, who had dropped to his knees alongside him and scampered after him in play. And now that Aaron was crawling better, he was also testing his other limits now, too. He was in the beginning stages of pulling himself up to stand.

John marveled the boy's progress in just a few short weeks. And now, he was beginning to feel some of that strain in the body that came along with having old bones parenting young ones. Keeping up with his son, who was all about exploration and discovery, was proving to be a test for him too. Especially when parts of the living room that couldn't be completely child-proofed weren't. And Aaron knew exactly which parts those were.

"Aaron, no." John gently said as he went to balance himself on the hard end of the sofa arm rest. Not too far from that stood the coffee table. One wrong wiggle and he'd tumble over, hitting his tiny head on it or the wooden floor not covered by rugs. John scooted over and redirected him towards another, wider part of the quilt. He tried to interest him in the colorful stacking rings spread out on the floor—but Aaron had other ideas, this time crawling over to the old-fashioned radiator under the window across from the couch, his little head and bottom bobbing up and down as he crawled. Underneath, he managed to find something—an old piece of cracker—perhaps, and proceeded to lift it, as to put it in his mouth. His father's admonishment, even stronger than at breakfast this time, stopped him.

"Aaron, no! I said no! Not in your mouth. Uh-uh."

Aaron looked at his father, wide-eyed again, and babbled at him, as if to say "No, Daddy? But why?" When he went to move the piece of fluff covered whatever-it-was again to his mouth, John repeated himself once more, sternly. Aaron still regarded him with wide eyes, stuck in his tracks, gurgling away, his gaze returning from John to the thing in his hand and back to John again.

John shook his head before scooting over to remove the nasty thing he found, which indeed was a piece of old cracker. Leave it to his boy to be such a sleuth. Between his mother and him, the kid had no choice.

Soon, though, he was on his back with Aaron on his belly, then in mid-air, then on his belly again. More games of Daddy Airlines. Aaron squealed, drooled, and squealed some more as he sailed through the air, then bounced, then rolled over on the quilt. John kissed and nuzzled and tickled his son, and he basked in the glow of his love.

Soon, Joss returned from her shower fresh and spry, dressed in a dark blue sundress with sunflower prints and a pair of flat sandals. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, and she wore just a hint of makeup with her posted silver earrings.

She was beautiful. She was the mother of his son. She was everything.

"Oh, boy. What have you two been up to? I heard all that commotion. Never quiet when Daddy comes home, huh, baby? Like I got three kids in here," she teased.

"You better believe it. Only thing is, this kid likes his mommy in her sundress. Even better out of it."

Joss grinned. "John, stop talking dirty in front of the baby. There will be time for that later. Did you get the laundry out?"

"Mmm hmm, count on it. Umm, no. We kinda forgot."

" Yep. Three kids. Well, if you smell bad, I'm not touching you at all. Upstairs, shower, now. Come on, Aaron. You can help Mommy get the clothes dried."

John handed the baby over to his mother and got up for his shower. He kissed her forehead and nuzzled the baby. "I'll be right back. Don't leave the house without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it. You're my relief."

"Love you, Joss."

"Love you, too, John. Now, go shower."

Up the stairs he skipped, two-by-two, as she walked the baby to the laundry room, him attempting to pull at her ponytail. The sun was already starting to blaze and beam high through the windows, and the day promised good things, only good things ahead of them. Joss hummed a little tune. She wasn't so alone whenever John came home, never felt she was the only one in the world with an infant son completely dependent on her. When John came home, everything was perfect. All the possibilities were possible.

She would hold onto that for as long as she could. For Sunday next was right around the corner.

 **A/N: "Sunday next" was the day John got prepped to leave again. Finch through the earpiece, Man-in-the-Suit suit back on, a slight distance overcomes him, the whole bit. He'd be "John Reese" again, not "Daddy." This is hard on Joss as much as she says it is for the two boys. It would have to be!**

 **Isn't that Aaron a little scamp? John's got his work cut out for him this week for sure, haha!**

 **We'll keep the fun moving along. Off to the park!**

 **Thanks for reading, and best of all!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: The adventure in parenting continues. That little Aaron, haha. Enjoy, guys!**

"Aaron? Aaron, baby, wake up. We're here. Come on, Mr. Sleepypants..."

As John unhooked Aaron from his car seat in the back of Finch's Lincoln, he didn't awaken right away. Instead, he yawned, stretched, and settled back in, as best he could, into sleeping, until his dad gently pulled and scooped him out of the car seat, hoisting him up and laying his little head against his shoulder. Joss, who was busy in the trunk getting out blankets, Aaron's walker, toys, diaper bag, and the picnic basket they'd packed before leaving, chuckled at her baby, still knocked out from the half-hour ride to the park. A trip in the car usually did that trick.

"Down for the count, as always," she said. "Car rides are the best lullabyes I know of."

John looked down at the sleeping boy before kissing him on the nose. "Mmm, yeah. Well, that and all the fun we had back at the house should have conked both of us out. But I guess he needs it more than I do."

"Let's see if we can find a good spot near the baby swings. Remember how much he loved those when we were last here?"

John did remember, the vision of his toothless, grinning boy, dressed in his one-piece dark-blue snowsuit, hat, and mittens, as he gently sailed through the air on the swing, the soft early spring chill and sunshine his companions, would be etched on his mind forever. He smiled at the memory, and agreed that this day would be great for a repeat performance. Taking the walker from Joss in his other hand, the little family began the short trek from their parking space to the playground, where it was already inundated with kids from all over the area enjoying the freedom that only summer could bring.

##

They found their perfect spot, a large shading oak surrounded by green grass and close to both the swings and a picnic table. They had planned to eat on the large blankets they brought, but if the ants and bees got to be too much to handle, the picnic table was a nice alternative. By the time they had reached the area, Aaron had finally decided to rejoin the land of the waking, and once he was fully conscious, he quietly took in his outdoor surroundings from the brim of his Yankees baseball cap. He wasn't fussy upon waking this time, merely relaxed and curious about all the kids he saw running to and fro, as well as any dogs that passed them by on leashes.

"Hi, Aaron," Joss said to him. "Look who's finally awake. And just in time to play, too! Yay!"

Gently poking him in his little pot belly got a smile and a coo out of him before he buried his face in his father's chest and began wiggling his nose around. John adjusted his son's body against him, so as to keep him from falling, before putting him down, on his knees, on the flower patterned blankets Joss had spread out for them. Once they were settled, Joss pulled Aaron over to check his diaper. Finding him both dry and poopless, she put down some of his toys and sat him down with a graham cracker snack, which he was most happy to get. There was also water in his sippy cup for the warm summer weather.

John sat beside him, putting on his own baseball cap, this one a Seattle Mariners' one, and his sunglasses. He had decided to wear strapless sandals on this outing, and he took them off to lie back on the blanket to relax. Aaron didn't miss any opportunity to ignore his graham cracker and toys, and instead make a plaything of his father's shoes. Of course, the fact that he had his own little leather sandals on was completely lost on the tyke.

"Heeey, give me my sandals back, little boy!" he said, laughing. "Those are mine!" Joss shook her head in amusement.

"I coulda told you that, John. Those sandals will be a mess before long if you don't get them away from him. Huh, Aaron? Say, 'I mess up shoes more than a dog does!'"

Aaron heard none of this. He had both sandals in his hands and began banging them on the ground, singing away to his own beat. Both his parents laughed at his antics. Because of that, he kept on doing it—until he decided to hand one, then the other, to Joss.

"Thank you," she said. When she didn't hand them back right away, he began to get fussy.

"Oh, you want them back? Oh, well, ask your daddy. Say, 'Daddy, can I have the sandals back?'"

Aaron wasn't in the asking mood. The longer Joss held the sandals, the more agitated he got. Soon, he was full on whining.

"Hmm, John, what do you say? Can he have them back?"

John sat up, took the sandals, and handed them one, then the other, back to Aaron. That got him to stop crying, but soon he lost interest in them as soon as he had found it, and proceeded to try and crawl over his dad's leg to chase a squirrel that had now caught his attention near the tree.

"Oh, no, where do you think you're going? Come here, you little scamper," John said to him, pulling him back from the edge of the blanket. Aaron was fast—but Daddy was fast too. For his trouble, though, Aaron got a Superman ride, up in the air, and then down again on the blanket. He decided to try another direction, and so, behind Mommy this time, he found his way to the picnic basket—an entirely new diversion that promised all sorts of exciting adventures.

His first effort was to try and turn the handle into yet another teething ring. Joss would have none of that, since it was real wicker, and he could hurt himself on some of the splinters. Plus, she didn't want baby go all over the handle as she went to use it. So Aaron, once again, got moved to another spot. But he wouldn't be put off so easily. Slipping away from his mother's grasp, he returned to the basket to play with the latch in the middle. This time, he almost pulled the whole thing over on him.

"Aaron!" John said firmly. "Come. Come here. Look! Look what Daddy has!" John made a show of being surprised and produced something he knew Aaron, as his son, would love far more than Daddy's sandals or the picnic basket: a baseball. He'd had it in his pocket, and figured he'd have to pull it out for the baby—just perhaps not so soon.

Aaron hesitated in causing lunchtime destruction at the call of his name. At his daddy's coaxing, he saw the baseball and soon forgot about the picnic basket. In no time, he had crawled up on John's lap and placed his little hand on the baseball. Finding it too big to grasp, he simply began to hit at it, and knocked it out of John's hand.

For the next few minutes, father and son played a game of roll-the-ball, with John rolling, and Aaron doing his best to fetch after it. The two boys did that until Joss noticed that there were a few openings at the swing set, finally, and that now was the chance to get Aaron in one.

"John, let me take him. You get the sandwiches ready."

"Okay. What did you want again? The turkey or the chicken salad?"

"The chicken salad. And I have the baby food jars on the side of the diaper bag. Aaron's bowl is in the basket."

"Okay, honey. You two have fun, I'll take care of this. Yay, Aaron! Swing time! And then, yummy lunch. Sound good?"

Aaron gurgled. If there was one thing, he loved, it was lunch.

"All righthy, Aaron! Let's go swing-swing!" Joss said, and, picking him up, she walked over to the swing set. John watched his son and his lady move, and he could have sworn he saw Aaron's little arm go up and out, and his hand gesture to him with a wave. John smiled back at him with pride and joy—and waved in kind.

##

After several minutes of fun at swing time, Joss and Aaron came back for lunch. John had set up everything, including Aaron's lunch time bottle of formula. After cleaning hers and Aaron's hands with wipes, Joss got her chicken salad on wheat bread with Kettle chips, sliced cucumbers, tomatoes, green and red peppers, and red grapes, to be washed down with lemon water from the jug. John had the turkey instead. For Aaron, there was his bottle, along with strained pasta and carrots. They all dug in, the summer warmth and activity making them all hungry. After Aaron's bottle, he had the strained baby food, but John also supplemented his meal with a peeled half banana, which he held in his hand, until it became yet another gooey mess in his mouth.

As the breeze blew through the trees and the older children and families continued to run amok, John couldn't imagine heaven being better than this. He had learned to count his life out with Joss in the minutes, the seconds, each piece of time one to cherish and store away for when he couldn't be there, for when his job meant all eyes and thoughts be on stopping the bad guys on the streets, as well as the bigger fish out there that he and Finch were still only just discovering. He didn't know the extent of the threat just yet—but he knew enough to know that Team Machine was involved in the other side's plans, and that could spell disaster for him, for Joss and the kids, and God knew who else.

But that was far away now. Nothing there but green grass, kids, playgrounds, toys, lunch—and his family. He could almost let go in a setting like this. He could almost forget the mission. Of course he could. Almost.

"I love you, Joss. In case I haven't said it in the last little while, I'm saying it now. I love you. And I love our baby. And Taylor."

"We love you, too, John. Don't think about it. Whatever it is out there, don't think about it now. Focus on us. On me. On our son. That's all you need to know right now. Please."

Aaron seconded that motion by tossing the remnants of his banana in John's face. Looking skyward and taking a deep breath, John shook his head and began laughing. And he laughed and laughed until the tears came out of the sides of his eyes.

After lunch, Aaron got sleepy again. But they weren't quite ready to go home yet, so John went back to the car, put the picnic items away, got the baby carrier. He then put a sleeping Aaron in it, and strapped the carrier to his chest. Hand-in-hand with Joss, the little family walked the duck pond trail, letting the gentle breeze carry his worries where it would.

 **A/N: Still not sure if this is about Samaritan, but it surely would make sense in a post-Crossing world. John's happy to be at home, but he's still faced with a great many fears that he can't just put on hold because he's there. In fact, Aaron seems to remind him more about how dangerous it all is. But perhaps things may change by the end of the week, no? We'll see.**

 **Thanks again, everyone. And be well with yourselves. Until next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Back for more with John, Joss, and Aaron. Taylor will make an appearance at some point after staying with his father, but for now it's still the three of them in Joss' brownstone. After the park, it's home for dinner. We also have more "flashback" here. There is a method to the madness, though, trust me, haha.**

 **Thanks again for the indulgence, guys. Much, much appreciated!**

It was close to dinnertime when the family Reese got home, and everyone was happily worn out from their outing at the park. Everyone except Aaron. He was crabby all the way on the car ride back to Brooklyn. His nap in the carrier had refreshed him at first, but the day's weather, hotter and muggier than when they'd first arrived at Bentley Park, did not win itself any prizes from the the infant boy once he awakened.

The child who had been content and calm before his nap was anything but then, having begun voicing his displeasure at getting his latest stinky-stink diaper changed under the large shaded tree near the duck pond. It then escalated when he was stopped from chasing after the family of chipmunks that decided to look for food near the carousel. But the worst indignity of all was his losing out on being able to wrest John's ice cream cone away, so as to enjoy it all for himself. It wasn't enough that Daddy had been gracious enough to share a little with him. No, no—he wanted the whole thing, and John nearly lost the cone to the ground, as well as his shirt to cleanliness, what with trying to keep his son from making a mess of the both of them with it and hurting himself trying to get at it.

When Daddy handed the baby off to Joss, Aaron had a fit that went clear up to the heavens, his little feet and legs kicking furiously, his face a reddened contortion of dissatisfaction. He hollered, he wailed, he wriggled and beat his little fists against Joss' face and chest. And it was moments like those where she was glad she'd invested in those free weights training sessions during her detective days.

"Okay, remind me never to get ice cream with Aaron in tow again," John said, laughing. At that, it was Joss' turn to put the smirk on, her big brown eyes wide with half-serious attitude while she wrestled with the boy. The laughter subsided, though he still thought it was all so very funny. It was good that John could keep his own cool whenever his son had a tantrum and he was around for it; however, he knew very well that it was Joss who had been in charge of much of the child rearing while he was away from the house. And while Taylor was a teenager, that came with its own set of parenting challenges. She was an amazing woman and mother, indeed. But even amazing women and mothers had their limits. He was reminded then, fleetingly, of yet another instance of a few, when those limits were reached.

" _Hello? Yeah, Joss?What's up, honey?"_

" _Is it possible for you to take a break from saving the city and come home to see about our son?"_

" _What? Why? Something happen? Is he all right?"_

" _Don't tell me you don't hear that commotion over the phone, John. I've got to help Taylor with a problem he's having at school, my mom is out for the day, and Aaron is being impossible. This little cold he's got has been making him miserable. Up most of the night, no interest in nursing or anything much else. He's just been stuffy and cranky. Can you take him for a little while, and then get him to the pediatrician for his appointment this afternoon? I called Dr. Nichols, and she can see him at 2:30."_

" _Damn...still giving him trouble, huh? This isn't good. I'm still on stakeout, too, Joss. Getting intel on a new player in organized crime giving Elias a run for his money. We're closing in. Not sure how long this might take."_

" _Where's Shaw? And Fusco? Is he on duty now?"_

" _Both out in the field. We're tied down, Joss."_

" _John, look, I know you're still new at this parenting thing, but our son is sick. The thugs of New York aren't going anywhere. They can wait. He can't."_

" _Come on, Joss, don't do that. I know he's been under the weather. But you know as well as I do that time is of the essence with these things, and what we find out could very well go a long way in slowing the escalation of an all-out street war here. I'd like to make sure it gets slowed if not fully eliminated, don't you?"_

" _John...at this point, the only war that will escalate is the one between you and me if you don't switch gears for once and help me with this. Please?"_

John took a deep sigh that resonated in well across the phone line into Joss' heart. She knew that he knew she was at her wits' end. Joss rarely made a _direct_ plea for anything. She also knew that, despite his trying to be all things to all people, he loved his son.

" _Okay, honey. It's okay. I'll come by the house to take our little man to the pediatrician this afternoon. I can be there in the next hour or so, all right? When did you say the appointment was, again?"_

" _2:30, another couple hours or so. They'll be expecting him. Hey...I love you. I don't mean to nag, but-"_

" _Nag? No, no baby, you're not nagging me. Are you kidding? I'll be there as soon as I can. Just tell our boy to hang on. Daddy's coming. Love you, too."_

Once they'd managed to get their screaming baby secured into his seat—not without a fight, of course—he calmed down intermittently when they got underway, the cool breeze and the passing sights of the back window soothing his brow. Joss had taken his Yankees' cap and put it in the diaper bag for safe keeping, since he'd long since pulled it off his head and tossed it to the ground. Attempts to put it on his head to keep the sun off him were only met with obstinacy, as it ended up on the ground three more times before she gave up the ghost and put it away.

It was an interesting car ride to say the least. There was not one moment when Aaron was ever fully quiet, though his squalling did taper off into whimpers. That was the best they were going to get. For the next forty-five minutes, much of the excess due to traffic, Aaron fussed, cried, and eventually screamed their way home. Joss knew exactly what his problem was. On top of the heat, on top of the teething, he was simply hungry. It was his suppertime, as much as it was theirs, and the sooner he got settled and fed,the better they'd all be.

"Okay, Aaron, little one, we're home," John said to his troubled son. "We'll get you something tasty for your tummy, then we go night-night, okay? Yes, I know, honey...yes...it's all right..."

"Come here, baby. Mommy's got you. My poor boy..." Joss said softly.

Aaron seemed relieved to be out of his car seat and into his mother's arms. In fact, her knowledge of his hunger was spot on, as he began rooting around for her breast while his squalling subsided to heartbreaking whimpers. John stayed out for a moment to get the baby's things out while Joss got him inside and upstairs for a quick wash-up—and feeding. When he got that bad, only her nipples would do.

Meanwhile, once John was inside with all of the stuff from the car, he washed up and began to make preparations for his and Joss' dinner. That night they would have a sit-down meal of pasta with sun dried tomatoes and basil, garden salad, garlic bread, and corn on the cob, to be washed down with red wine. It had been some time since he and Joss had had wine for dinner, or dinner together for that matter, even when he was home, so he figured that after the harrowing ride back, they were well and truly due for some. He was looking forward to it.

Soon, the brownstone smelled of delicious aromas of mushrooms sauteing in olive oil, and garlic roasting in the oven. Little more than half hour later, Joss returned downstairs with Aaron, who was now dressed in a red onesie without socks. She placed him in his playpen with his favorite rattles, stack rings, and teddy bears. In his mouth was his binky, and he was much more like his usual affable self.

"Mmmm, that smells good, baby," Joss said, venturing over into the kitchen. "And oh my goodness, I'm starving."

"I figured it was time for all of us to have our dinner, properly. How's he doing?"

"It was just time for a feeding, that's all. He had a good day, John. Him having a meltdown is part of the territory."

"Did you have a good day, too?"

"Of course. I was with two of my favorite men in the whole world. And Bentley Park is always worth the trip. Hey, you need some help?"

"Um, set the table? I got it covered here in the kitchen."

Joss went along the dining room to do so, and soon after, dinner was ready. They dug in as soon as the bowls and dishes were set. Joss was particularly impatient to try the garlic bread, the several pieces in the basket mouthwateringly aromatic. John poured the red wine into their glasses and made the toast.

"To us, to our love, to our family. May they endure all things, whatever they may be."

"Cheers," Joss said, smiling and clinking her glass to his.

##

After dinner, John took hold of Aaron from his playpen, gave him his favorite binky, wrapped him in one of his baby blankets, and sat down with him in the rocking chair in the living room. "Ready to go night-night, sweetie? Yes...yes, you've had a long day, my boy. Time to go night-night. There we go..."

Snuggling him close, he kissed his son on his nose, and then on his forehead. After he lay his cheek on his daddy's shoulder, John began the gentle rock that would soon send Aaron to his nightly sleep. Far different to the screaming child he had been in the car just a few hours before, Aaron hummed and sighed to himself contentedly, safe in the strong yet gentle embrace of his father's arms. John, too, was content to just sit there and rock in the chair, even if the evening news that softly played from the television told the same depressing stories he saw first hand on the streets while working the numbers.

Joss must have read his mind. She flipped the remote from the news of another gangland murder to the Nature Channel. There was a documentary on about wild babies—from chimps to walruses.

They both laughed at a particularly poignant story of a mother tiger trying to keep hold of one of her cubs when he or she had other ideas.

"Do you think that will be us?" John asked, still rocking Aaron.

"That already is us," she replied. "You wait until he realizes he can walk on those legs."

"I can't wait for that, actually. I want to have to chase him all over the house. I want to be able to do so many things with my boy. So many things."

"You will, John. We will."

"I know. And it will be amazing."

##

Later that night, John and Joss stripped one another and showered together, the grime of the park running down the drain. She kept a baby monitor in the bathroom, so she'd hear if Aaron stirred while he slept in his crib. The two of them took turns washing each other's backs, while Joss also washed John's hair. He loved it when she scrubbed his scalp, and he gave himself up to the wonderful sensations and tension release her fingers offered him.

But when they dried off and lie together in bed, that other kind of release eluded them. They humorously found that they were too tired for sex after their day out, but that was fine. Lying naked and entwined in the coolness of their bedroom, they simply just stared into each others' eyes. John's glowed silver in the dim beam of the baby monitor, while he could tell that Joss' large brown eyes were smiling t him. Instead of intercourse, they rubbed and stroked backs, thighs, and shoulders, giving and receiving loving kisses and nuzzles and whispering words of love, words of devotion.

Sleep soon offered its hand to them both, and they gladly accepted the invitation. The day done, tomorrow was yet another wonder to behold.

 **A/N: I'm thinking that these two need a date night. Perhaps the next chapter will give them one. Not sure, but it's in the cards. Thanks more for taking the time, and see you soon with more. Stay tuned!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Life for the two parents when they break out of their normal routine. Here, Joss gets some "Joss time" while John takes Aaron on, and they'll both get some "Mommy and Daddy" time in the next chapter. In that case, there's a smut alert for you. That was the sound my throat clearing, yes, haha.**

"Joss, will you stop? Just go on, enjoy yourself. I'm here. We're here. Just us boys. We got this. Now, go on. Your mom's waiting." John laughed as Joss fussed with every minor detail about Aaron's day schedule: when he napped, how often to check his diaper, how to heat up the formula-breast milk mixes she made earlier on. John was involved enough in his son's life to know exactly what it was all about and how, even if he wasn't physically in the house all the time—but she still felt the need to remind him.

"Okay, okay...sorry. I'm just being silly. Yes, yes, you guys will have a good time without mommy fussing over everything."

"Yes, and you will have a good time too, spending time at the spa with Corinne. I'm glad you let me convince you to go. And pay for it. I wanted to do that for you, honey."

Joss wrinkled her nose amusedly. "Now whatever did I do to get such a sweet present, hmm? A massage sounds heavenly," she sighed.

"You deserve it, and more, you know that. Now, get going. Raoul will hold out for a little while if you're late, as he's a former number—but don't overdo it. Just go, relax, and enjoy yourselves. And give my love to your mom."

"Hmm, I better be extra nice to her as well, since she's going to babysit for Aaron for us later tonight, too."

"Yes, that might be a good idea. Did you tell her lunch was on me, too?"

"No, but I will. That should do it. She loves you," Joss laughed. "Mmm, but not nearly as much as I do. Thank you, baby. Really. I have the best man in the world, even if the situation isn't perfect."

"I know. But," he said, closing the space between them for a kiss, "it's pretty damn good for what it is. We'll see you later."

##

Aaron watched his father with a keen interest as he loaded the dishwasher, dinner plates, pots and pans, and wine glasses sharing equal time with sippy cups and teddy bear bowls. For Aaron's bottles and nipples, he got out the bottle washer and filled the basin with soapy water, snaking each one by one before putting them in the dish tray. Once that was done, John wiped down all the counter tops with disinfectant cleanser, and got out the broom and dustpan for a little sweeping up of the kitchen floor. It really was amazing what one could find stuck behind refrigerators and under cupboards. Toys thought lost months ago, turned up, only to end up meeting their final rest in the garbage pail.

"How we doin', son? Hmm? We good? Yes? You know, you gotta stop losing your toys like this. I was wondering what happened to that Mickey Mouse rattle."

Aaron replied with a bang on his high chair before sticking his fingers in his mouth to muffle his gurgling.

"Okay, now, that's done. It's bath time for you, Mister. We've got a busy day ahead of us, right? Give Mommy some time to chill, and us boys are gonna have some fun on our own for a while. What do you say? Yay? Yay!"

Aaron's eyes widened at his father's expression at first. But as John give him a nose-to-nose bump and a little silly growl, he broke into what seemed like a million giggles all at once.

"Grrrrrraaaaoooww, that's my boy," John said, grinning in turn. "Oh, Aaron, Daddy loves you so much. You don't know how," he said, in a suddenly serious tone.

But it wasn't the time for seriousness. Aaron grabbed his daddy's ears and fixed his gooey mouth to the side of his face. Though John knew better, he wanted to think that his son's babbling was his way of saying that the feeling was mutual. Well, of course it was.

##

To save a little time, John decided to run the big bath for himself and Aaron, the last time he'd taken a bath with his son was a few months before that, when he was just shy of five months old. The very first time was with Joss in tow, at his apartment, the morning after an impromptu—and illicit—visit she made in the middle of the night.

" _Joss? What? What the hell are you doing here?"_

" _We didn't disturb you did we? You told me on the phone that you missed us. So here we are."_

" _Where's Taylor?"_

" _At home, sleeping. He's fine. I left him a note."_

" _And you brought the baby, out of his bed? Joss, what were you thinking? I told you not to come here again! It may not be safe!"_

" _What I was thinking, John, was that I missed my man and the father of my baby, just like he misses me. Now...if I was mistaken, I can leave..."_

" _No. No, no, you weren't mistaken. Not at all. You know better. And you're crazier for thinking I'd let you go now than you were for coming over here. Come on. Let's get Aaron settled in the other room. And then, let's get you out of those clothes, pretty lady, mother of my baby..."_

The two fellows had a grand time slipping and splashing around in the tub. John made sure to put out extra towels and toys in the tub, which Aaron actually played with, for a change. His Mr. Piggy was especially made for water play, and Aaron squealed in delight each time John squeezed the toy and made it wheeze. Aaron also had good fun using John as a brace for practicing his stand-up, pressing his little hands flat against Daddy's chest before sliding back down again. John made sure to sit Aaron down, though, for a few minutes, wiggle-free, to thoroughly wash his little face with a cloth, and his loosely curled hair with the mild shampoo gotten just for him. He also wanted to be sure to work some of the tangles through. Those two tasks weren't Aaron's favorite things at all, of course, his attempt to pull John's hands away indicative of that. When Daddy didn't stop fussing with his hair immediately, it was Aaron who began to fuss, his discomfort unmistakable in the echo of the bathroom.

"Okay, okay, little man, all right," John said, wincing and then quickly attempting to soothe his boy quiet with a lift and a hug. "But soon as Mommy says we can, and that you're old enough, we're cutting this hair for sure. Driving me nuts, these tangles. We'll cut it like Daddy's. No more tangles. Would you like that?"

Aaron didn't care much about the future. He just wanted Daddy to stop pulling on his curls now. Once he did, the boy decided to happily reach for another toy that he could use to splash more water around.

Several minutes later, John reached for towels to wrap Aaron up in, then pulled the drain to let the water out. Standing up and exiting the tub, he smiled at the image of his son, looking all wet and disheveled, following his dad's moves to do the same, but without benefit of walking legs, it was impossible.

"Here we go, Aaron. Come on," he said, wrapping the towel around his son and pulling the stopper out of the tub. He decided to deposit him in his crib that way, while he hastily dried himself before getting the baby diapered, brushed, and dressed before getting himself clothed in shorts, tee-shirt and his own sandals.

That day's outing would merely see them take the stroller out to go for a walk around the neighborhood. John packed a blanket in the diaper bag just in case they decided to stop at one of the more local parks to enjoy the day. It wasn't as hot as the day before, and the blue skies were not to be missed. As they rolled along, Aaron was content to see all the sights, as well as smile at any passers-by who happened to spy upon the little tyke, dressed in a pair of khaki shorts, striped t-shirt and sandals.

They watched neighborhood kids play jump rope, saw construction workers work the big cranes and machines on a new development, and watched the pigeons fly by. When John stopped at a little deli for a sandwich and drink, he shared some of the bread crusts with Aaron, who was more than happy to get them. He wasn't a big bruiser of a baby at eight months—but he was a good eater. His parents never had to worry about that.

Within a few hours, John could tell that Aaron was winding down, so John walked back to the brownstone, gave him a bottle and, once he was done and burped, put him down for his nap. While he slept, John decided to get a few more loads of laundry in, as well as vacuum the carpets and make the list for the next grocery shopping trip. They'd need to make a stop at the farmer's market for more fresh veggies for sure. He was thinking about experimenting with home made baby food.

It was so quiet in the house. So peaceful. With Joss and Taylor gone, the chores done, and the baby sleeping, he was almost bored. But he didn't mind being bored for a change. Especially under those circumstances.

Turning the baby monitor in the living room up a notch, he then grabbed a book off the shelf and decided to kick back on the sofa. He couldn't remember the last time he'd read a book on downtime. Being a vigilante, and now the father of an infant son didn't leave much time for that. But now, he could. He could just sit back and relax a little. Life was indeed good. It had its harrowing moments, of course, but he couldn't complain. Not one bit.

Not long into the first chapter of the fiction title he'd picked, his own eyes grew heavy, and he drifted off into a nap too, the baby monitor rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing.

 **A/N: Joss got her spa date with mom, and mom will return the favor later for date night. Potential smut alert, ahem. I said that before, didn't I? Haha, I did!**

 **Hope you had fun with this one. I'm having fun writing it!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Here comes date night! That means Aaron gets packed up to spend the night with his Gramma. That's all good though, because our little sweet pea loves spending the night at Gramma Corrine's house! And while she's not completely at ease with the way John and Joss raise their son, she is fond of John and knows he's a good man and a good provider for her daughter and grandsons. She has no problem taking the baby off their hands for a night or two. Grandparents rock, no doubt.**

A pair of soft, warm lips touched John's in his slumber, and at first he didn't stir. But then, it happened again, deeper this time, and somehow, the sweetness, the familiarity of the moment reached into his unconsciousness and within a few seconds of sighing, grunting, and stretching, he opened his reddened, startled eyes to see Joss hovering over him with a smile. She had a bright red scarf on her head, and underneath it he was just able to make out the hint of curler tips peeking through. Cooing happily in her arms was Aaron, who then did his own part in helping to rouse his snoring daddy by grasping and punching at John's nose with his little fist. She was laughing, her beautiful, plain face and big brown eyes a sight for his own.

"Hmm, you know, I still find it funny that spending all day with your son does to you what fighting bad guys on the streets of the city can't: knock you straight out. John, you are something else," she said, still grinning at him.

"Fighting bad guys is an easier job than raising an eight month old boy is," he said, blinking back sleepies and finding his own creep of a smile for her. "But...it's also much more fun. Hey. Did you just get back?"

"No, I've been here over an hour or so. You were down here snoring away, and this little boy was already awake and playing in the crib. His afternoon naps are not always so long as they were a few months ago. Figured I'd let you sleep though." She turned to Aaron, whom she had pulled back from John and now had perched on her hip. "Huh, baby? We let Daddy take a nice nap. He doesn't get to do that very often, what with keeping us all safe. We have the best daddy in the world, don't we, Aaron?"

"Abbooooozzzzeeeee..umm...ma-ma-maaaaaa! Da-da-da-da-daaaaaaaa..." Aaron answered. He then decided to occupy himself by trying to catch hold and play with his mother's dangling earring, which had just then caught his attention, and with which he was often fascinated.

John sat up abruptly at the sound, beaming from ear to ear. "He said it! He said it! He said, 'da-da!' Wow, Joss, did you hear that? He said my name! How about that?"

Having explained what Aaron was doing when he made those utterances before, Joss still understood how John felt, the thrill of hearing his son say his "first words." It sounded like "da-da" enough, so "da-da" it was.

"He's definitely being chatty today," Joss said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear him talking to himself upstairs. He was loud enough for sure, both on the monitor and in general."

"You sure he's okay?" John asked, now rising to sit up on the couch, slightly worried now that he may have left his son in a vulnerable space by not hearing him wake up.

"Oh, yeah, he's fine. We're lucky that he hasn't learned how to climb out of his crib yet. He will sometimes do that, though, wake up and just play in there with his toys, or watch the mobile overhead. Plenty to keep our little boo occupied, what with his daddy getting him so many fun things to play with. He loves that school bus you bought him last time."

"Yeah, I know. And Mr. Piggy in the bathtub. He really loves Mr. Piggy," John said, smiling while running a hand through his hand and sighing. A strange feeling came across him then. Since Joss was giving him all these details about Aaron—his likes, his napping habits—he suddenly realized that he needed her to do that because he wasn't there to see it himself. The nightly phone calls and the Skype chats were wonderful—but that still didn't make up for his _being there_ for his little guy and for Taylor. They didn't make up for him being there for himself. He was feeling like a guest in his own home, a visitor in his kids' lives. And that little pang of discomfort in his chest was real; it stung hard and sharp before he tamped down on it and decided to change the subject.

"So, how was the spa? You look...refreshed."

Joss smiled. "I am refreshed, thank you. Nothing like a good massage to get the kinks out and a whipped butter facial to put the glow back into a gal. Thank you again, baby. It was just what I needed."

John took her hand and gently pulled her and the baby toward him, so as to sit down. When she did, Aaron wiggled out of her hold and awkwardly crawled onto his daddy's chest and stood against him to pull at John's chin, which had acquired a pretty robust two-days growth of beard. He was fascinated with the look and feel of Daddy's face, and in his concentration, Aaron smiled his toothless smile, and cooed and gurgled messages to his father, the contents of only he knew for sure. While careful to dodge poking little fingers, John watched him, reminded of his own visage, and the determination he felt anytime he was in the field, following a lead.

Avoid the poking fingers completely he couldn't, however; Aaron was eventually able to grasp a fair amount of cheek with his fingernails for good measure. Instinctively, John moved his face, catching the baby paw in his mouth for a lippy nibble, and pulled him in close for a kiss and hug. He still smelled of clean hair and skin and his baby breath the held the faintest hint of milk sweet. John loved those smells. He loved them with a warmth, a gentleness—and a protectiveness-he'd never quite known before.

The nap wasn't the only thing he could do when he was at home with Joss and the boys. While not exactly letting himself go, he would definitely forego the usual crisp and tailored look he favored while working as The Man in the Suit—which included not shaving. Normally, it was no big deal, and Joss wanted to encourage him to let loose as much as possible while he was home, knowing how hard it could be for him to completely switch vigilantism off, no matter how much he loved his little family.

But since that night they were going out, she had other ideas. The beard was coming off.

"Mm, you look nice. Relaxed."

"I got curlers in my hair, John, and no makeup. I can't look all that nice," she grinned, sitting closer to him and Aaron and rubbing his thigh while playing with the tips of her curlers."

"I think you do. Very nice. But you always look nice. And you know I don't give a damn about you wearing makeup. The less the better, actually, but I love how ever it is you fix yourself."

"Um hmm. So, I always look nice, huh? Even in my drab detective clothes?"

"Mmm hmm. Even in your drab detective clothes. They weren't so drab really. They certainly showed off more than you thought," he said with a slow turn of his head, a smirk and now hooded eyes now the expression he wore.

She gasped in mock surprise. "What were you doing looking for?"

"Wasn't like I could help it, Detective," he said, employing the almost nickname he used for her, teasingly, the lilt in his voice slightly deepened and quieter. She knew that lilt well. He was also looking forward to their private time that evening.

"I'm glad you didn't," she purred while continuing to rub his thigh. She smiled at him a smile full of promise for what lie ahead. They would get themselves and the baby ready, drive over to her mom's to drop him off for the night, and then head off to dinner and a movie before heading home again, the house all theirs until the next afternoon. No feedings, no diaper changes in the middle of the night, no little baby boy crying to come into their bed to sleep with them. No. Just the two of them with the freedom to be lovers, and to pretend that Sunday next wasn't but a few days away.

"Mmm hmm, see? And now, look where we are. About to go on a date together. You should wear one of your old suits tonight to celebrate."

Joss playfully hit him on the shoulder. "Boy, shut up. No I'm not either."

John laughed in response. He adored it whenever her no-nonsense attitude came out to snark him. She had always been the perfect combination of strength and sensitivity, two things that struck him immediately upon meeting her that day in her interrogation room, after a fight with some punks on the subway who thought they could handle the drunk bum with the whiskey bottle, nice and neatly. He showed them all their own asses, and that got him a one-way trip off the subway and into the police station. Encountering Joss had been the start of a journey that turned him around from suicide to Finch and the numbers—and back to her again.

And now, Aaron and Taylor. And the reality of family he once closed himself off from having as he crossed deserts and foreign lands, doing the work his government had asked him to.

Life was certainly some funny business as it was.

"Well, we better start getting a move on. I need to pack Aaron's things, get him fed, and then we have to get ready. Much, much to do." Moving to take the baby, Joss got up with a happy sigh. "Come on here, Aaron. Guess what? You're going to get to see Gramma Corrine tonight! Yay, Gramma Corrine! You like that? Yes, you do. You like Gramma's house. She lets you get away with more, huh, boo? She did with Taylor, too. Spoiling my babies like that. The nerve," she said, laughing.

"Yes, it's terrible," John joked with her. "But we need this time together, you and me, and since she's so good with him, and loves him so much, that's the best we can do, I'm afraid. I think Aaron will be okay. Yes, he will. Give Daddy kisses before you go?" Joss leaned Aaron over for a quick kiss before putting him in his playpen and turning the flat screen on to PBS. She knew there was a late afternoon showing of "Sesame Street" playing, and even now Aaron, smart little boy that he was, paid a decent amount of attention to the colors, shapes, letters and numbers featured there, clapping and vocally reacting as he watched.

John smiled as the program went along and he saw Aaron watching from his playpen, until his attention span focused on the favored yellow school bus and how fascinating it was that when he pushed it, or applied pressure to the roof of the bus, it moved. Over and over again, from the school bus to the firetruck that Taylor had spent some of his allowance on, to the ABC blocks and the stuffed glo-bee musical caterpillar with the light up tail, he continued to explore how his little body's power could make things happen, could have an effect on something other than himself. Soon, "Sesame Street" was but mere background noise.

Because of both Joss and John's efforts, Aaron's world was full of goodness and security. He was surrounded with love and wholesome environments that made him grow, made him happy, and kept him safe. That's all John wanted, for all of them. And he was determined to continue doing what he did to make sure it stayed that way.

And in that spirit, his little boy would grow up to do something wonderful for the world some day. He just knew it.

##

"Joss?" John called from downstairs, three hours later. "We have reservations for 7. Clock's ticking. Come on, babe."

"Almost ready, John,"Joss called from upstairs.

John moved away from the stairwell and shook his head. What was she doing up there? Both he and Aaron had been bathed over an hour and a half before. John had shaved and Aaron had gotten his hair baby oiled and brushed and the two of them were now occupying their time with a light snack of apple pieces and Cheerios while waiting for Mommy to come downstairs so John could load the car and get underway. Aaron was perched contentedly in his walker, humming and gumming away at a piece of cereal while they waited and he tried scooting around.

"Well, Aaron, I guess it's just you and me for a little bit longer while Mommy gets ready. Hmm, what do you say to a story, hmm?" John asked as he looked around the living room and spied a few of Aaron's favorite story books on the coffee table. "Do you still like Little Frog's Adventures? I'll bet you do."

John got the book and picked Aaron up out of the walker to sit him on his lap. Aaron immediately grabbed the colorful hardbound book with his free hand while feasting on his apple slice. He would help Daddy read.

"Okay, Aaron, here we go. Oh yes, this is a good book. And look, there's Little Frog! Do you see him there? He's in the pond! Here, let's read this part. Once upon a time, Little Frog and his pal Little Chipmunk were playing in the woods when, suddenly, they heard a noise. 'Cooooo-coooo,' the noise went. Little Frog and Little Chipmunk stopped playing to hear what the noise was. 'Cooooo-coooo' it went again..." John's high pitched imitation of the noise in the story always made Aaron smile, and offer his own imitation in turn. John grinned, and for the next moment or so, the two readers practiced their very best 'cooo-cooos', taking turns until Joss finally, beautifully descended down the stairs.

"Holy wow, Joss," John said upon seeing her. She wasn't even particularly dressed up, sporting butter soft jeans, platform sandals, and a sleeveless black halter top, but Jesus, she looked gorgeous. Her skin glowed mocha brown and her hair, before pinned up in curlers, now framed her face in loose spirals. She changed her earrings to silver hoops, and her makeup, while seemingly sparse, accentuated her full, nude lips with a dewy gloss. The butter soft jeans hugged her curves in all the right places, and the halter just barely left a nice swell of bosom peeking out over the tops of the garment.

She was the most beautiful, sexiest woman he'd ever seen. Damn.

"Like what you see, John?" she teased.

"Hell yeah," he replied, nearly stupified by the vision of his son's mother in front of him as he looked her up and down appreciatively. "Oh, hell yeah. Those jeans...um, hmm, um," he stammered, suddenly feeling warm. "You, uh, ready, babe?"

"Yep. Just have to get Aaron's bag and my purse. John, clean his hands. They're all sticky. What's he been eating, apples again?"

"Yeah, just a little snack. Okay. I guess he'll have his dinner at your mom's?"

"Yes, she'll take care of that. I put extra jars in the bag, along with his bottles and some cans of formula that should hold him through tomorrow. Mom's got stuff at the house for him too, so he'll be set."

As John found the wipes for Aaron's hands, Joss got his things ready and set them at the door. Soon, they were set to go.

"You know, John, you don't look so bad yourself. No suit times are always good, baby," she said, winking. His black pants and black button down cotton shirt indeed went well with his casual leather loafers.

"Yeah, and it didn't take me all night to get in them, either."

"Well, that's good. Won't take that long to get you out of them, either. Come on, Aaron, baby. Time to go!" John let that one go for the moment. But it was a thought that would remain on his mind for the rest of the evening, make no mistake.

The little family departed their home and got settled. Aaron was a little fussy at first to back in his car seat, but once John got them on the road to Gramma Corinne's he settled down and enjoyed the ride. It was a nice, cool evening, and everyone, including Aaron, was looking forward to what it had to offer.

##

"Oh, Mom, thank you again for watching the baby," Joss said, with a hug to both of them. Corinne held Aaron, who smiled at his grandma before getting his vision reacquainted with her kitchen. John busied himself with setting Aaron's things in the house before giving Corinne and Aaron kisses for himself.

They adults engaged in small talk before John and Joss headed off for the night. They both gave Aaron one more kiss before waving back at him through the door. As he saw that they were about to leave, he began to cry, but Grandma Corinne and Joss were both used to that, so she shooed John out of the door, as he was the one worried about the baby. "He's okay, John," she said gently, while she did her magic of soothing Aaron. "You two go on and have a good time, okay? As Taylor likes to say, 'I got this.'

"I know you do, Corinne. I know you do. Thank you. Bye, sweetheart. Daddy loves you. We'll you see tomorrow, okay? Be a good boy for Grandma."

"Oh, he always is," Corinne said. "Say 'bye-bye, Daddy. See you tomorrow!'" she said, taking Aaron's hand and making the sign of a wave. Aaron still cried through the door, but John kept on towards the car and a waiting Joss in the passenger seat.

"Date night," she sighed, with a full smile and a gaze full of anticipation.

John took her hand and kissed it. "And what a beautiful date I have, too."

##

Angelino's Italian was in the heart of the Theatre District, one of a number of places where he and Finch were known to frequent in between the numbers. That night, he and Joss were shown to their secluded table, complete with candlelight, wine, and the best linguine this side of Manhattan. He had pre-ordered their meals with the reservation, so they were able to be served not terribly long after arriving.

They ate and talked and laughed, mostly about Aaron and Taylor. But they also talked somberly about the street war being waged between Elias and a new player about town, Dominic, and how this new player was encroaching upon old timers' territory, making the hot streets even hotter for mayhem. The other thing he and Finch were concerned about he could not tell her. She knew there was something else, as always, but she wouldn't badger him on it. If she needed to know more, he would tell her. She was sure of that.

After dinner and dessert, the handsome couple walked, hand-in-hand, the six blocks from the restaurant to Broadway and the AMC Theatre for the screening of a new romantic movie Joss had been interested in seeing called The Petal Dance. John wasn't too particular in what they saw, and Joss usually had good taste, so he went along with it. And hell, a movie with a little mushiness wasn't so bad, really. He's just have to be careful in letting it slip the next time he saw Lionel on the job.

As they approached the theatre, however, John couldn't help but notice a figure that very much resembled Shaw, cross over from Broadway, apparently in pursuit of a lead, or a perp, possibly having a connection to Dominic. John instinctively went into operative mode, while suddenly remembering that he held no service weapon. Still, impulse was hard to stop. Joss looked up at him and was suddenly worried.

"John? John, what is it? What?"

"That's Shaw over there. Something may be going down..."

Joss immediately went into overdrive. "No! No, this is our night, John. Come on." Pulling him into the theatre, they got into the line for tickets, Joss shielding the door with her body and pushing him ahead. John began to laugh.

"It's all right, Joss. There's nothing that would pull me away from you. Not tonight."

"Well, I'm just making sure it stays that way. I lose you enough to this mess out here in the streets. I need my man, tonight, John."

He turned to her, fire ablaze in his eyes. "You have me, Joss. All of me. Don't you worry. Besides, I'm not carrying, as usual. That was our deal, wasn't it?"

He ran his fingers gently down her cheek before kissing her quickly, yet soundly, before taking her hand again, squeezing it, and proceeding with her to the ticket counter.

"Two for The Petal Dance, please," he said to the concessions clerk, while holding Joss close to his side and running his hand across her back.

##

In the darkened theatre, they find a spot away from the other patrons, near a far wall, out of the way of the dim lights and projector. They're like teenagers in that way, but it seems like the best spot, since much of the middle of the theatre was occupied, and well, they wanted to be off by themselves. Once the previews ended and the film got underway, John snuggled in closer to Joss, who reciprocated his embrace by hooking her leg over his.

They were like this for several minutes, until John, overcome with warmth and affection for his lady, looked away from the screen and kissed her cheek while rubbing and stroking her leg. Joss wiggled in her seat and let out a sigh, her body reacting to the dance of John's fingers on her skin. And as she reacted, so did he, kissing her cheek once more before finding her lips. Their sweetness was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but take more. He was suddenly greedy then, and his tongue snaked out of his mouth into hers with a hunger not at all akin to that which he had had in the restaurant.

Soon, the film was forgotten, and all they both knew was that desire had snapped their control in two. Luckily, the sound from the film was loud enough to muffle their quiet sounds of passion, as the darkness covered their display.

"John..." she quietly murmured in his ear.

"Let's go home, Joss," he replied, his whisper thick with lust in her ear. "Come on, let's go. We need to take this somewhere else."

"I wanted to see this..." she said, not convinced by her own words now. His hand having traveled to her breast was more persuasive.

"Joss, honey...we can't stay here with this. You know we can't."

One last effort. "But what about the tickets?"

John chuckled seductively. "You can...pay me back tonight...at home. Come on..."

Joss gave up the struggle. His hands were doing such wonderful things to her already that the movie would indeed have to wait.

They scooted up out of their seats and out of the theatre, back up to where they parked the car. John kissed Joss one more time, frantically, lovingly before he dug into his pocket and found the keys.

They were almost back in Brooklyn before he realized he'd been speeding most of the way. When they made home and to the door, it was no time at all before he had Joss pinned against the door. They were all over each other, hands, lips, fingers in hair, thighs and legs. John groaned and forcefully yanked down Joss' halter top, her tender breasts popping free from its confines. There would be no tenderness, no slow and exquisite foreplay; they were both wild with need, and nice and easy wasn't in the cards that night.

Joss moaned and pressed her pelvis into John's own as he lowered his head to taste her breast. God, he was amazing, his big, broad body strong and sure, his mouth a sweet torture. She clung to his back while he pulled and sucked the soft flesh of her nipples.

"Mmmm...mmm..." he groaned. "You know, little man's going to have to share these with Daddy. Yes, I think so. Daddy gets hungry for your breasts too, Joss. So hungry..."

"All yours tonight...all yours...ooohh, John..."

He stopped his feasting in order to bend down and pick her up in his arms. Up the stairs they went and into the bed he placed her. And their clothes came off like a flash. Platforms, butter soft jeans and panties, button down shirt, slacks, shoes, and halter top. They didn't pause or stop, methodically pulling off things until they were both naked in front of each other. Her mocha body was beautiful in the dimness of the lamp and his broad chest and ribs were hers to touch, to explore with her fingers. Each skim of her fingers on his body was like fire; he inhaled sharply, so aroused by her, so in love and desire with her. It couldn't get any better than that.

But he was wrong. It did get better. It got hotter, more intense. He lowered his body to hers and found himself between her legs. There, he dipped and tasted, drank of her sweetness until she whimpered, then cried her pleasure. Her fingers caught in his hair and she wrapped her legs around his body in a cocoon of love. The pressure built harder and higher, until she exploded into a million fragments of magical stars, her body unable to be still, to contain the glorious release she'd held in since the other night.

John rose up at the sensations of her release and entered her strongly. He couldn't wait anymore. She was so sweet, so beautiful. She was every damn thing he'd ever wanted, before he even knew he did. And with each thrust inside her, he declared his love, unyielding, unwavering, unflinching. He was hers for as long as she would have him.

"Ahhh, John...no other man...no better man than you...you're my baby's daddy...so good to us...so good..."

Her words spurred him on and soon the room was a symphony of love and passion. They took the road of bliss together until John lost complete control and his orgasm roared out of him.

"Hold me..hold me...just hold me, baby...never let go. Please." Joss pleaded.

"I got you, my love. I got you," he sighed in her ear, pulling him so tightly to her body that nothing could get between them. "I love you, Jocelyn. I'm here. Always."

They made love twice more before they finally exhausted themselves. After the third time, and a slow come down to earth, John and Joss made a quick naked jaunt to the bathroom, then Joss went downstairs to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses before heading back up. On her way, she looked around at the dining room and noticed Aaron's empty high chair. She also noticed one of his binkies and his teething ring. She knew he was safe and sound at her mother's, that Taylor was good with his dad, and that she had a man upstairs waiting for her that she loved with her whole heart, and he loved her in kind. It was good. It was all good.

With a happy sigh, she turned back to the stairs and ascended them, sure in the knowledge that she was, in her way, the luckiest woman on earth.

 **A/N: All righty now! Aaron went to grandma's house and his parents got real busy at home, haha. How about that Joss holding John back from following Shaw on their date night? Yes, she's gotta keep him in line. Her time with him is precious. But he was fine. Just fine. And they end up more in love, not even getting through the movie.**

 **I think Taylor will come home soon, which can provide another familial dynamic to the proceedings. Perhaps next chapter. I hope you guys enjoy this one, though, while you enjoy the Easter holiday (if you celebrate). Stay tuned and keep it lit. Thanks, guys!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: John and Joss enjoy a lazy morning together after the abrupt ending of their date in Manhattan to continue it in Brooklyn. After a time, they get ready to go to Joss mom's house for Aaron. They're sated and happy as the day dawns.**

 **But happiness has a way of turning on a dime. Keep reading.**

 **Once again, I thank you for the indulgence. Please, don't feel shy about dropping a comment, either. Much appreciated—and blessings for a nice one. :-)**

John stretched and yawned while snuggling Joss close to him under the blanket. He was awake, but he didn't want to open his eyes just yet. Joss snuggled up to him, her head and breasts resting against his chest. Both of them sighed, spent yet happy after their wonderful night of intimacy.

She turned her lips toward his shoulder and left a light kiss on his skin. He, in turn, rolled over on top of her, eyes still closed, and finding the mark, pressed his already emboldened hardness into her soft body. She was still supple and moist from the night before, and he pressed and thrust until her body opened for him completely, their gasps of pleasure unyielding. Several moments later, he spilled his seed deep inside, the grunt of release caught by the pillow under his face.

Soon, he pulled out, and turned to lie on his back. "I'm sorry," he said, breathlessly. "I'm sorry. I should have waited, held back a little. Oh, how you drive me, Detective," he said, with a sheepish grin.

Joss softly grinned. "I wasn't the one driving, John. But don't worry. I like it when you do it like that. You know I do. Take it, baby. It's here for you, whenever you need it."

"Mmm, you always know what I need. I just wish I could return the favor, honey."

Joss sat up on her elbow to look at him, her dark hair a mess from all their exertions. "But you do, John. You do give me what I need, plenty. And most of all, you've given me Aaron. Best gift I could have gotten—though I certainly wasn't expecting him. I'm right where I want to be. You know that."

" _You_ weren't expecting him!" he snorted. "At least you've had some practice. Soldiering in Baghdad never prepared me for all the ins and outs of baby duty. Remember the diaper tapes?"

Joss laughed aloud, remembering how pitiful he was at changing his newborn son on the first few tries. She had offered to get him a practice baby doll, but big soldier man he was, he refused. Eventually, though, he did get the hang of it. She was just sorry it took so many diapers for him to do so.

"Uh huh, you were pretty terrible, John. But you managed. And you're still here."

"Yes, I am. And I'm very glad I'm here. Very, very glad."

Joss rubbed his chest as he spoke and lie back down again next to him. "Speaking of which, Mom agreed to keep Aaron until this afternoon. So that gives us some more Mommy and Daddy time, just for ourselves."

"Gosh golly, Detective," he said grinning, "So much time? Whatever will we do?"

She rose from the bed, the sudden urge to relieve herself strong after John's penetration. "Hmm, by the time I get back from the bathroom, I'll have thought of something."

John swat her bottom as she got up, and she squealed in response. "Not if I've thought of it first."

##

After more lovemaking and a warm shower, John and Joss dressed and prepared a breakfast together of omelets, toast, coffee and orange juice. Joss picked up the mail and the morning paper, and John set the table. As they sat down to eat, Joss cell rang.

"Who could this be calling me now?"

"Maybe Corinne wanting to get Aaron out of the house early," John teased as he opened up the morning paper.

Joss should her head. "Nah, those two love each other famously. She'll want to hold on to him every second she has him." When she looked at the caller ID, her eyes lit up and she eagerly answered.

"Hello? Taylor, baby? Hi! Wait, wait, John is here. Let me put you on speaker."

A young male voice, still inching its way out of puberty, sounded through the phone speaker. :Hi, Mom?"

"Yeah, we're here, Taylor! How are you?"

"I'm good, Mom. Hi, John!"

"Taylor, it's good to hear you. Everything okay at your dad's place?"

"Yeah, yeah, great. Was just calling to see if maybe you guys were still on for picking me up tomorrow to come home?"

"Yes, of course," John said. "What time were you thinking about?"

"Umm, I don't know, maybe in the afternoon? I could come whenever."

John looked as Joss as he spoke, probably just to see if they were on the same page. "Well, how about two o'clock, then? That okay?"

"Yeah, that's great. I'll let my dad know. Thanks, John and mom. Remember, you owe me a pickup game."

"Wouldn't miss it. See you soon, son."

"Taylor?" Joss chimed in. "Your little brother is over at your grandma's, so we'll have to go pick him up soon. He misses you, baby."

"I miss him too. I love you, guys. See you tomorrow."

"Okay, baby. Bye now."

The call ended, and Joss sighed with happiness. Her family, her whole family, would soon be together under one roof. "Sunday next" would stay away for yet a little while longer.

##

"Look who's here, Aaron? Look who's here! It's Mommy and Daddy! Yay!"

Aaron squealed with delight and nearly wiggled out of his gramma's arms at the sight and sound of his parents coming through the front door of Corinne's house. They all extended their greetings and hugs, and John took hold of Aaron to kiss, nuzzle, and hug him, while Aaron, open palmed, pat his daddy on the cheeks. Joss leaned into kiss him as well, and he cooed contentedly as he pulled at her earring.

"How was he, Mom? Good?"

Corinne waved her hand in dismissal as she prepped a light afternoon tea service for them all. "Oh, child, he was fine, as always. Slept all through the night, ate his food up like a champ, and played well. He is getting around more, which means having to put more of the breakables on the shelves—but that's fine. That's what little baby boys do." She lightly inched Aaron on his cheek. "Huh, sugarpop? You just growin' up, that's all. Right on time!"

"Oh, good. He had enough diapers and wipes?"

"Yep, just fine. And you know I keep some things on hand for him, so he would've been okay with that. All set."

"So happy baby boy was good for gramma," Joss said, rubbing his head and kissing his nose. Aaron whipped his head round to avoid it some, but Joss caught him anyway.

"Those teeth coming in gave him some problems, but I kept the teethers cold for him. Always worked for you, too."

"Please, Mom, no Joss-as-a-baby stories in front of John. He doesn't need to hear those."

"Oh?" John piped in, his eyes raised in wonder, following Joss. "Really? Well, maybe I'd like to hear those Joss-as-a-baby stories."

She rolled her eyes at him, knowing he just wanted some ammo to tease her with in the future. "No," she insisted.

Corinne laughed. "Maybe some other time, John. Here, you kids have a seat and join me for some tea and cake?"

Both of them were still full from breakfast, but they agreed to join Corinne for tea. Besides, she made delicious cake and other treats from scratch—and they wouldn't be so rude to refuse.

John sat down with Aaron in his lap, which meant he'd have to be careful with his own place setting. The boy was already inching to reach the ceramic plate and napkin there. John held him fast, but Aaron was determined. Dressed in a pair of shorts, bunny t shirt and a pair of sneakers, and having had his breakfast already, Aaron was a ball of energy.

John wasn't sure how many times he'd shifted his body to hold on to the child, but that he did so made him chuckle.

"Little man, you're not getting what you want here. Sorry about that, but no."

Aaron squealed in response, loudly, and kept trying. As John held him, he got fussy, kicking his sneakered feet against his daddy's thighs. But Daddy wasn't having it. And Aaron knew it. And he only got fussier.

Soon, his little face contorted and red, broke out into a full-fledged whine. His bottom lip turned down, his eyes found his mother's in an appeal to get his own way. At first, Joss held firm. But as he whined more, wiggled more against Daddy's hold, and kicked more, Joss found herself weakening.

"John, let me have him."

"No, Joss. He can stay where he is."

"But he's just getting crabby. Let me take him and calm him down." She smiled nervously, anxious to calm the storm she knew her son was winding up for.

John stood firm. "No. He has to understand he can't get his way because he wants it. You'll spoil him."

Joss' eyes widened. "I don't spoil him, John. But if he's upset-"

John interrupted her "-then he can be upset for a bit. He won't break. He has to learn to learn that he can't just do what he wants. The table would be a mess. He's fine."

"John, I don't believe you! You don't just let him cry like that! I don't!"

"Well, that's where we're different, you and I." Aaron was now full on crying, and still John held on to him.

"That's not the only way that we're different, is it, John?"

John's eyes widened in irritated astonishment. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Corinne quietly moved towards the kitchen to get the small chocolate Bundt cake that she'd made for the occasion. "I'll just get Aaron's things ready on my way to get the cake. It's all right, Jocelyn. It's all right to let him cry a little bit."

Joss suddenly felt ganged up on. Her mother and her son's father were mocking her concern about her baby crying. "Oh, I don't believe this! So you're both saying I don't know how to mother my son? What have I been doing for the past sixteen months, huh? I carried him in my belly, I birthed him, I fed him from my breasts, but I can't mother my own child."

"No one is saying that, Joss," John said quickly to stem the tide of the argument he was now too late to fully stop. "You are a wonderful, fantastic mother. It's just that he needs to understand that he can't just get his way when he cries or he'll be one of the worst spoiled brats imaginable. I see those kids, you know, out in the field, at the schools in the city. Can't take direction for anything. Tune out their teachers and their parents. My son is not going to be one of those kids."

" _Your_ son, John? I thought he was _our_ son. Yours and mine, together. You and your nerve. You come home to him, you see him, one damn week a month, and suddenly, he's _your_ son. I would never say something like that to you."

As if on cue, Aaron's crying grew louder. John struggled to talk over his son's screeching bellows, while holding back from falling out of his arms. His desperation and his flaring temper swirled together in an unholy trinity, and suddenly he was angry, angry in a way he hadn't been in a long time.

Picking Aaron up brusquely, and turning him to face his father, he looked square into his little brown eyes and barked: "AARON! STOP IT! RIGHT NOW! RIGHT...NOW!"

Aaron's little eyes opened, wet with tears, but at full attention. His baby bottom lip quivered, and he whimpered loudly, doing his best to stem back the tirade he'd caused. But he couldn't quite do it completely, so his whimpers became utterances that broke John's heart in half.

"Daaaaaaa...daaaaaa...daaaaa-deeeee...daaaa-deeee..." His little eyes closed again, and he began to sob.

"Give him here to me, John. I think that's enough. Bring me my baby," Joss said quietly, gravely, watching the scene across from them, tears in her own eyes and voice.

John slowly looked from his son's quivering, whimpering face and saw her there. He stared for a long time before he finally stood with Aaron and moved from the table. But he didn't do what Joss asked him to. Instead, he walked over to Corinne, who had stood riveted to her spot behind Joss, as she watched the scene unfold.

"Here," he said to Corinne, handing her the baby.

"John..." she said, her mouthed pursed in concern.

He didn't answer. Like a sleep walking man, he turned towards the front door, his face ashen, his watered eyes searching blindly for the doorknob. When he found it, he opened the door and stepped outside, going nowhere in particular. Joss got up to follow, but she stopped dead when he heard her footfalls behind him. He turned toward her, his eyes bright red, his cheeks sunken.

"How long, Joss? How long are you going to punish me, huh? How long?"

Before she could answer, he turned again and walked out of the door, down the street, towards the set of railroad tracks near the house.

"John! John, where are you going? John!" she cried after him frantically, to no avail.

Corinne stepped up with the baby, who was still whimpering, but somewhat more settled than a moment ago. "Jocelyn, let him go. Let him go. He needs to cool off. And you two really need to decide if this situation you've got set up is really worth it. Especially now, if what you told me is true. Now, I've kept quiet, because it's your life and I know you love him and I know he loves you, but it's only going to get harder. And the burden will be on your shoulders. You can't handle that on your own. And don't forget Taylor is in this picture too."

"I haven't told him yet, Mom. He's not ready. I'm not ready."

"I see. Well, he's going to have to know sometime, Jocelyn. Preferably well ahead of time."

"Yeah, Mom. Yeah. I know. I know. I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Mom. I didn't mean to yell at you. Damn..."

"Well, I understand, baby. I mean, I don't fully understand, but I know how much you've been through. And John, too. It's okay. Just let it out."

Joss backed up from the door and closed it. Falling onto the sofa, she couldn't hold back the tears, and so they fell, fat and hot, down her cheeks. Corinne quietly sat next to her and put her free arm around her, in the unenviable position of having to console both her grandson and his mother.

 **A/N: It's not going away. They love each other to bits—but that underlying tension is not going away. And a new dynamic has now entered into the equation. Something has to give.**

 **And poor Aaron. Daddy full on yelled at him, and he is still just a baby. Yes, they can be handfuls, but John yelling? His son adores him. Of course, he'd stop bawling at the sound of that. And the night before was so nice...**

 **Well, Taylor comes home next up, John and Joss talk about things, and there may be a trip to the beach in store. That should be fun!**

 **Stay tuned and happy Sunday!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: And we're back with Chapter 10! At last writing, John and Joss had a disagreement about how to best deal with baby Aaron's behavior, with John losing his temper with her and taking it out on his son. There's realization there, which continues to press upon issues of presence—namely John's in his new home and family—and the lack of it, even with the Skype chats, the doctor appointments, and the financial support John provides Joss and the baby for the things he needs. And, as Joss' mom said to her, it will only get harder as Aaron gets bigger.**

 **But they do their best because they love each other.**

 **Thanks for the read, of course, and drop us a line. Take care, all!**

Aaron sat with his mother, on her lap, as a comedy film played on his grandma's flat screen TV. Now stripped down to an undershirt and his diaper, he was content for the most part, one of his baby rattles bobbing from his tiny mouth as he held it, then shook it to hear the sound it made, before putting it back in his mouth as best he could. The clothing change had come about from his spitting up some of his formula from earlier on, while he still hadn't fully calmed down from his father's scolding. His little tee was now headed for the dirty clothes bag, and Joss figured he'd be more comfortable just to play in his undershirt anyway.

She watched the film dutifully; however, her mind was fully fixed on just where Aaron's father might be. He had walked off in upset and hurt, but, of course, he had caused hurt too.

All the same, she worried about him. She had seen him in that state before: impatient, angry, then painfully sad for something he'd done, with the guilt that ate away at him inside. He had so much pain inside. She knew of the toll that the CIA had taken on him, knew of his loss with Jessica, and how he blamed himself for not being there to save her. Could he be feeling that now about her and the children? And had she been the one to drive him there?

She knew he hadn't meant to yell at their baby. It was never his way, as he was the most gentle and loving man she'd ever seen with children, despite his rough and ready persona and way with a firearm. He was the kind of man kids looked up to, wanted to be when they grew up. Certainly, his infant child did. Even a half hour after John had left, Aaron continued to whimper and look at the door, waiting for his daddy to come back. But the door stayed shut, and no Daddy appeared.

So his mother gave him a small bottle of diluted apple juice from which he took occasional suckles, and her mother switched on the TV while getting a light lunch ready, leaving some for John in case he did return before it got late.

About an hour into the program, there was a light rap on the front door. Joss' heart skipped a beat at the sound. Taking a deep breath, she kissed Aaron's head, put him on the floor, and went to answer it. "I got it, Mom," she hollered back to the kitchen where Corinne was busy loading her dishwasher.

"Is that the door, Jocelyn? I didn't hear the bell."

"Yeah, Mom. I got it. Knocking."

"Hmph, whoever it is could have rung the bell. John?"

"I hope so, Mom." She repeated to herself, "I hope so."

And of course, Joss opened the door to see John there. An eternity seemed to pass while they stood there, just staring at each other, until, his hands rising up and his arms opening slowly, he moved to embrace her. For several seconds they held each other, until John felt movement against his leg, and the sound of whimpering at his foot.

Upon seeing his father, Aaron had crawled over as quickly as his little body could, in search of the security, the reassurance, he so needed from him. And John was more than happy to oblige his baby boy. For he needed him too.

Gently letting go of Joss and bending down while she went to close the front door, he grabbed hold and gently lifted the child up and into his arms. Aaron hiccuped a low sob as John held him, and in kind, he whispered soothing words of apologies to his son against his soft cheek.

"Ohhh...my little sweet boy...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry I yelled at you. Did Daddy scare you, baby? Hmm? I didn't mean to. You're just my sweet boy. Just a baby, and I was a big mean daddy, wasn't I? Oh, God, I would never hurt you, son. Never, ever, ever hurt you for anything."

Joss smiled with tears in her eyes at the scene. John looked up at her warmly, while still consoling Aaron and rubbing his little back soothingly.

"You know what? You and your mommy and your big brother Taylor are everything to me. I know you don't see me enough, but I am your daddy and I love you. Yes...yes...Daddy loves you. Always..."

Aaron burrowed his head in John's shoulder, now cooing and digging his tiny fists into John's shirt. John nuzzled and kissed him some more, and then walked over to the sofa to sit with him.

Joss closed the door and followed them both.

"So...," Joss began as they settled on the couch. "Where have you been?"

John sighed before answering, letting go of the breath he'd been holding. "Just for a walk. Needed to do some thinking."

"Thinking? Okay. What about?" She gently prodded him like a child would a fish with stick, just to see what he would do, or in this case, say. But John was nothing if not evasive when he wanted to be, as his response to her proved.

"Just...thinking. About everything. And nothing at the same time." With a change of subject he was glad for, he remarked on Aaron's state of undress. "What happened?"

"Oh, he spit up all over himself, so I just put the messy tee and shorts in the bag and let him wear his undershirt and diaper. He's okay."

"I'm sorry, Joss. For all of it. You know what he needs much better than I do. You always have."

"Oh, John, don't. It's okay. Yes, he's just a little baby—but there are things Aaron understands deeply, even if he's so tiny. Not saying he's a genius or anything like that, though he's very, very smart, of course. No, that's not what I mean. It's just that, ever since he was born, I don't know, he's just always been more...sensitive than you might expect. It's like he knows things, picks up on them emotionally, really well. And he remembers. That's what it is with you and him. He's with me more, and he loves his mommy—but with you, even though you aren't here all the time, it doesn't matter to him. Sometimes he misses you terribly, just as I do, but if he can just hear your voice, just have that little bit of you, then that can get him through those tough moments. Like I said, he adores you, John. And he knows you're there even when you're gone away. He knows you love him. He knows you are his one and only daddy. You're his hero, John."

John stood Aaron up to face him for yet another kiss and a giggle. Aaron's unsteady legs wobbled and buckled underneath him, but he grinned and cooed in joy right back at John before falling onto him.

"Yes. Yes, I am. Your one and only daddy. I'd have to be. You look just like me. Though I'm glad you picked up your loving spirit from Mommy."

He turned to her and kissed her this time, slowly, lingeringly, until their foreheads touched, and Aaron found the space between them to explore the buttons on grandma's sofa.

"Hey," Joss finally said, warmed and flustered from John's kiss. "I'm sorry for what I said to you, too. I didn't mean to undermine your authority in raising our son. You are his father. Yes, he's a baby, but he fights against being denied what he wants, as most babies do, quite a bit. It can get frustrating, I understand. I usually just put him somewhere out of reach of temptation, but now that he's more active, that doesn't even always work. A blessing and a curse."

"That's what I should have done. But he's usually minded me immediately when I've told him not to do something, even when he was just starting to feel his way around. Losing my touch already," he chuckled.

"Don't worry about it. That won't be the last time you yell at him, trust me. Wait until he hits the terrible twos and threes, when he can talk back at you and stomp his feet. And at that point, he'll understand better, so the scolding will be more appropriate. And when he hits the teen years, oh lord!" she laughed.

"Hmm, I'll keep that under advisement. Much to look forward to. Speaking of teens, we'd better hit the supermarket before we head back, since we got one coming home tomorrow."

"Yes. We do need to stock up, since the pair of you can eat like some raging bulls. Oh, Mom put some lunch on for you. I don't suppose you got anything to eat while you were out walking."

"No. But I'm not so hungry just now. Is Corinne here? I'd like to offer my apologies."

"Somebody call my name? And yes, you will have something to eat, John. I saved you a plate, so dig in," said Corinne, carrying a tray with John's lunch on it. Round two of keeping Aaron out of the plates might very well soon commence.

Corinne placed the tray at the small table where teatime was to have taken place instead. "I think if Aaron is kept over here, that should work better this time."

Joss laughed. "Mom, you were so listening in the kitchen. See where I get the snoop gene from, now, John? All her."

"Well, it's not like you all were quiet. But I'm glad you're talking this through. Come on, John, have something."

John eyed the delicious fixins on the table, and suddenly his appetite returned. "Well, maybe just a little. Sorry about earlier, Corinne."

"Ah, that's fine. Like my daughter said, this is just the beginning!" she laughed.

Once John settled himself at the little table and began to eat, Aaron indeed managed to find his sneaky little way to Daddy's side, attempting to pull himself up by attaching himself to John's leg. John watched him while he chewed and smiled. That smile soon turned to laughter as Aaron tumbled onto the soft carpet, only to roll over and crawl away towards Grandma's flat screen once it caught his attention, mayhem his only goal. Joss was up like a bolt to catch him before any damage was done, gently turning him upside down by holding him at his shins. Aaron squealed with delight before she turned him upwards again and sat back down on the couch.

"Gramma would get both of us if you mess with her TV, little man. Here, let's play." Pulling out his ABC blocks, she held onto him while John ate in peace. Aaron mouthed the blocks and banged them together, both the lunch table and the TV quickly forgotten.

Their loved had smoothed things over again. But Corinne's words from earlier lingered in Joss' mind. She did have to tell him. He needed to know, the sooner the better. And Sunday loomed in the near-future.

"When Taylor gets home," she said to herself. "When we're all together, as a family. Yes. When Taylor is home."

"Did you say something, Joss, honey?" John asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"No. No, I didn't say anything. Eat up, John."

 **A/N: Next up, a trip to the grocery, a little work around the house, Taylor's pick up the next day, and the winding down of the week on the heels of a secret. Stay tuned!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So our little family eventually makes their way back from grandma's house to prepare for Taylor's homecoming, and to plan for the rest of the weekend. Things are chill for the moment, again, but of course, John will have to go back to work soon, and that will be tough. However, they do still have a few more days, and they plan to spend that with Taylor doing fun and familial things.**

 **Right now though, they need to get going to do the big family grocery shop. Before they pull off, however, John drops a hint about where his thoughts might have taken him while he was out on his walk to cool off from the incident in Corinne's living room. Meanwhile, our favorite baby boy chills out in his car seat.**

 **This is a short one, with the continuance on the way. Thanks for reading, and enjoy. :-)**

"Honey, do you have the food list in your purse? I can't seem to remember all the things I wrote down for us to pick up at the store."

Joss fumbled through her purse after strapping on her seatbelt and making sure that Aaron was securely fastened in his car seat in back. Finding the list, she showed it to John, who smiled lightly. "Good. I don't want us to forget anything."

"As if. I'm the one who told you what to put on the list, remember? If you forget, I'll be sure to get whatever we need. Why are you even trying to think of all that, anyway?"

John shrugged as he lightly touched the steering wheel. " Meh, I don't know. Maybe I'm just trying to be a good husband, I guess. Gotta make sure you guys are well-fed and cared for. That's what a man does for his family, isn't it?"

Joss paused for a split second, a cluck of her tongue audible before spoke. "Yes, John. Any man worth his weight. But that would make more sense—if you actually were my husband. We both know different, don't we? Listen, just concentrate on the road conditions we're going to face, John. That New York rush hour is gonna start up soon. And you know what a bitch that can be."

She leaned her elbow against the passenger side window buffer and propped her head with her fingers. The air conditioner in the car hummed to life while milkweed floated across the windshield. The day was very warm but not muggy, which Joss—and Aaron—was grateful for. The cool air soon settled gently in the town car's interior, refreshment for all of them. Joss kept water on hand for Aaron in case he got cranky again.

John stared ahead, but with a wistful smile on his face. "Well, I guess I'm feeling married is all." He stared at Corrine's garage door and turned the ignition on before adding, "whatever that means."

Joss let out a patient sigh at that one. She wasn't quite sure where he was going with this, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Hmm, yes, whatever that means. Well, I can tell you that marriage is more than 'a feeling,' John. It's work. And sometimes, it doesn't _work_ out."

"I think we'd be okay, Joss. We've gotten this far, haven't we?"

Where was this coming from? Was that his ring-around-the-rosie way of a marriage proposal?

"If you say so, John," she sighed. He could still be an enigma, her own powers of perception powerless to know just what it was he was thinking. So she let it go. If he had something to ask her, or tell her, he'd do it in his own time. If he was just letting his imagination get away with him, then it wasn't of any consequence. Besides, if circumstances didn't permit it, there was no way the status of their relationship was going to change.

If he knew what she had been keeping from _him_ , perhaps that might alter things. He'd have no choice but to do what was fully needed. He'd make up his own mind then. But no, no. That would be coercion, wouldn't it? Joss simply wasn't the kind of woman to hold something like that over a man's head in order to get him to act a certain way, or change his life around because of it. If _he_ wanted it—and if circumstances did permit—it would happen. If not, then she and their children would have to do the best they could with their vigilante father.

In her own way of switching gears, she looked back at Aaron again, who was still busy with trying to devour his little toes, and laughed. "They taste good, huh, baby? My little boo-nut, always sticking his feet in his mouth. You know, it's a wonder I can keep this boy in socks at all."

"Mmmmm, gheeeee, ! Gooommmmm..." Aaron said, bending forward just enough for his big and middle toe to muffle his grunts and utterances. His binky was presently missing in action within the folds of his car seat, but if he wasn't fussy, Joss was happy to leave him as he was without it.

"He's a good eater, just like his dad. We'll eat anything: pancakes, burgers, feet and toes. We're not picky," John said, now putting on his sunglasses and lowering the visors against the sun's glare. Turning back to look at Aaron, "Ready to go, son? Yes? Mmm, yummy. Yummy yummy toes."

The baby continued to coo in joy at the discovery of just how delicious his little appendages were, the two he managed to get in his mouth, at least. John could barely see his face, as his chubby baby legs were up in the air, partially obscuring his view. Though he was secured safely in his car seat, Aaron was a bendy baby, which made it still possible for him to access said appendages. Because of that, he paid no mind to his father's question, so much into his task as he was. John returned his gaze to the driveway.

"Oh, before I forget, I don't think I mentioned it, or wrote it down, but I think we're running low on diaper cream, Joss. Will have to get a refill. I didn't pick up any before I came home this week."

"Oh, okay. But we might have some extra in the bathroom. Not sure though. I'll grab it, don't worry."

"What, me worry? About you not being on top of things for this little boy right here, for either of our kids? Never. Not in a million years. You are the rock, Jocelyn Carter. My strong, beautiful, sexy woman, who holds it down and keeps it all moving. Us boys are lucky to have you. In fact," he said, his full stare on her lips and mouth before traveling to her own eyes, "there's no better woman for any one of us," he murmured, while gazing at her, with an allusion to her love words in bed the night before. "No better woman."

She blushed, even in the mocha brown deepness of her skin. John was a man of few words much of the time, but with her, he was somehow always effusive in his feelings, affectionate, and full of praise. For her. For her parenting. For her beauty. For her spirit. She could never quite put the finger on what it was about her exactly that got reactions out of him that he hid from everyone else they knew, but there they were. It humbled her, even if he could still be stubborn and single-minded when it came to his work outside the home as he was.

And whenever he flashed those green-blue eyes at her, especially then, in the heat of the summer, his skin turned a burnished tan that illuminated those eyes even in the dimmed light of the car, she was a goner. Completely under his spell, no matter the infraction if there was one to begin with. Sometimes his power over her was scary, so accustomed all these years to having been the one in control of herself and of her life; most of the time, though, she reveled in it, reveled in his love and passion for her and their children. For as much as he could be, John was Taylor's father too. He was a part of Joss and Aaron, and therefore, he was a part of John. There was never a question on that, ever.

Again, it came to her that she was a damned fortunate woman to have him as her man, despite their current and impending challenges—and she damn well knew it.

By the time Joss had come out of her reverie, John had moved the car out of neutral and began to back out of Corinne's driveway. From the kitchen window, she saw her mother wave to them, and she waved back. Also, it was at that point that Aaron finally lost interest in snacking on his two little feet and found new discoveries to grab and bang on in the colorful row of plastic keys that adorned his car seat. Honking a good-bye of his own towards the house, John pulled out fully from the drive and merged into traffic, heading for the highway exit.

 **A/N: Just a short little chapter to keep things moving at the moment. As I post this, I am continuing with the next. Stay tuned—and thank you. ;-)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Continuing on from Chapter 11. Groceries, meeting strangers, Aaron's dinnertime, homecomings, pickup games. A few more details about how this "arrangement" works (John is such an honorable man). All very domestic, as usual. Enjoy.**

"Oh, I'm sorry, excuse me, but I just can't help myself. Is this your baby, Miss?"

Joss turned upon hearing herself be addressed by a petite woman with blonde hair and sunglasses in the parking lot of Whole Goods Supermarket, while she hoisted Aaron out of his car seat and onto her left side. She smiled faintly, somewhat startled by the approach. She didn't want to appear rude to the woman, but she also couldn't stop that little ping of annoyance rise in her throat, which showed itself in the crease between her eyebrows, that the woman would even ask such a question.

It wasn't a new thing, though. Since having had Aaron, and considering his features, she'd had any number of nosy women, white and black, question her about her child in public. With Taylor, never. He more resembled her and his father, so no one took any notice of that, on surface. But this child, looking the spit image of John, got everyone's eyebrows raised. She mentally shook her head. Even in this day and age, folks just didn't know how not to mind other folks' business. All the same, she still didn't feel like being rude, so she humored the lady anyway, while waiting for John to find a shopping cart.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Thank you. Say hi, Aaron."

Aaron was more interested in the sea of cars and shopping carts that passed by them to and fro to really pay much mind to the woman, but Joss took his little hand in a gesture of goodwill and made the wave sign for him. He was generally a good natured, friendly baby who wasn't so afraid to interact with strangers—so long as Mommy or Daddy was near—and he had just begun to experiment with waving on his own, in a kind of flash-your-fingers sort of way. But when he didn't want to be bothered with pleasantries, he didn't want to be bothered. And so, he wasn't.

The petite blonde woman didn't seem to mind so much. She also had a child with her, a little girl about four, who was also busy twirling her equally blonde hair around her fingers in that impatience that Joss remembered well from when Taylor was that age at the supermarket. Unless she was pulling out a pack of sweets or his favorite brand of cereal, he wasn't interested in shopping.

"My, my isn't he a little cutie? Just adorable! How old is he?"

"He'll be nine months in a week or so. Getting close to that one year milestone."

"Oh, yes. How very special, I remember that with this one," she said, gesturing to her daughter. "Hello, baby! Hello, Aaron! Are you having a good day?"

This question, or perhaps the sound of her voice calling his name, got his attention this time. He turned his head slowly, almost methodically, just like his father might, and studied the woman's face as she spoke to him in greeting. Joss watched her son's reactions, and she silently marveled, as she had many times in the past, at just how much like John he seemed, even as an infant. His brown eyes focused intently on the woman's peachy face and yellow hair, examining her mannerisms, her smile, her nose, as his father might in considering a lead on a perp or in following up on that lead. If he got anything of her detective skills in his DNA, the boy would have no choice but to be resigned to a life of fighting crime.

She hoped not. She hoped he'd be a doctor or researcher, putting that natural curiosity to some other use. While she was proud of her service to the city, as well as John's, she was always reminded about what a toll that job could take on a person—including the sacrifice of one's life. She almost lost hers to the diabolical nature of HR; Aaron wouldn't have existed had they gotten their way and killed her when they had the chance. So much time she lost with Taylor. She knew he had been proud of her, the badass homicide Detective Joss Carter, and didn't hold her commitment against her—but she did. She held it against herself. It was time she could never get back.

The blonde woman continued to beam at Aaron, and he cooed in kind. Joss decided to mock coach him, as mothers will do with their babies when they meet passersby in public.

"Say, 'yes, I have. I was at gramma's house earlier. I had such a good time!'" Joss wasn't sure what it was exactly that made her engage with this woman, this stranger and her own child, when they needed to get going. Perhaps it was a thing about showing off her precious baby to anyone who stopped to take the time, even with the seemingly accusing stares and probing questions about his parentage. Joss wasn't above the vanity of mothers who believed their children to be the greatest children on the planet. Aaron _was_ adorable. She knew that better than anyone. There was no disputing that whatsoever.

But she was nothing if not practical, and with an eye towards John and his pushing of their shopping cart from the cart stand in the same parking lot, she soon turned towards him.

"That one doesn't rattle when you push it, does it?" she asked. The carts that had been through their paces and were kind of raggedy in their use were a particular pet peeve of hers.

John smiled while moving towards them, his broad upper body slightly hunkered over the cart as he pushed, his entire form appearing like some miracle from the mists. "No, this one's fine. I know better. You and your standards."

As warm as it was, Joss could tell that that blonde woman's face had only gotten that newly reddened color upon seeing and hearing John approach them. Joss studied her as she studied Aaron get excited at seeing this man, familiar with the woman and her child, and the man taking the boy to put him in the basket seat of the cart. She could see the wheels spinning in her head, and it made her smile in amusement. No, folks simply couldn't help but have opinions about other people's lives.

"Do we want to bring the baby stroller? I put it in the trunk before we left, John. Just in case."

"No, I think we'll be okay like this. Unless you think we need it, Joss," John said, once again deferring to Joss' authority when it came to these things.

"Maybe. It's just that Aaron's more into grabbing things off shelves if he gets a notion. Last shopping trip we went on, I thought I'd have to pay for a couple jars of pickles that he almost knocked over. But we can see."

"Well," John said with a slight frown behind his shades, "I've got the diaper bag with his toys in it, so that may help keep him occupied. Yeah, we can see."

The blonde woman seemed rather taken at the display of shared parenting going on in front of her. Meanwhile, her own child began to fret about needing to use the bathroom.

"Okay, honey, we'll go to the McDonald's like I promised and you can go there." Turning back to Joss and John, she extended a hand. "Martine," she said in introduction. "And this is my daughter Lee."

"Hi, Lee," Joss said. "I'm Joss, and this is John, and you've met Aaron."

"Hi," Lee answered back shyly. "Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom!"

"Okay, sweetie. Well, it was nice meeting you, Joss, John. Aaron, you wait until you get this big, oh boy! Very active, she is."

"Yes, I'll bet. We can't wait," John said.

"Oh, be glad he's still that small. They grow up so fast. This one was just his age a minute ago. Yes, so fast. Well, anyway, again, it was lovely to meet you all. Such a beautiful family."

"Why, thank you, Martine," Joss said, with a smile. "And Lee is lovely as well."

"Thanks. Bye now!"

The mother and daughter pair made their way across the parking lot with their grocery cart. Luckily for Lee, the McDonald's was only across the way, so she would be good. John, Joss and Aaron made their own way through the sliding doors.

"How do you know her?" John suddenly asked.

"I don't. You heard her. She came up to us to say hello to the baby while we waited for you to get the shopping cart. Why?"

"No reason. I suppose Aaron inspires randoms to come up and talk. Don't you, Aaron? You are a magnet, my boy." His tone belied the concern he actually had. His vigilante sense began to tingle, though he promised Joss, as he always did, that he'd leave the street work alone while he was with her and the kids. It wasn't always easy. And even though Joss had been one of the finest NYPD detectives on the force, her being out of that loop meant that she might not have her guard up. Old scores to settle, hangers on from the old days of HR. New threats not even considered. He was never one to take these things for granted. Especially now that he and Joss had embarked on creating a family, however accidental that creation was.

"Hmm, yes. The little girl was cute. Well, let's get started. First on the list," she said, finding the grocery order in her purse, "diapers. As usual. The ones you brought home won't last him but for a few weeks. I like to make sure we have enough."

" Sure. I know how paranoid you are about that. And this kid does go through his share. Sounds like a plan, Mommy," John said, turning the cart to follow her down the baby care center, Aaron already trying his best to reach out and touch the loose tomatoes in the organic produce aisles.

##

Some three hundred dollars—effortlessly produced from John's wallet—and twelve brown bags later, with two jumbo packs of diapers safely couched under the bottom of the cart, the little family was now done with the monthly shop. Such an amount of money dropped all at once on the necessities would make others balk, but raising babies in New York was expensive. Though they hadn't needed to buy much formula this go round, keeping Aaron in diapers was a huge cost. On the other end of the spectrum, she had a growth-spurting teenage son who ate more than his weight in gold, and never seemed to slow down from it all. It was an extremely fortunate circumstance that John made an extremely good living from the numbers, and that he could afford to spend that kind of money on the things his woman and children needed.

In addition to covering those monthly grocery bills, John also handed Joss a hefty check towards child support for Aaron each time he came home to spend that week with them. A small portion of it she spent on Aaron's, clothing, medical insurance and other child-related expenses—but in all honesty, the bulk of that money she put towards the mortgage on the brownstone. In that way, the house was as much his as it was hers, even though, legally, he really could make no claim to it, even if he'd wanted to.

At first, she balked at him giving her those support checks, neatly folded in half, slid between the space of his two fingers, with funds to be drawn out from some bank Finch owned. That was when she was newly pregnant and still in NYPD Independent Woman Mode, of course; but he'd insisted, as the baby's father, on taking care of his child financially, even if off the books. For while Aaron did wear the name 'Reese' on his birth certificate, 'John Reese' never existed, and the man who pretended to own that surname was legally dead.

She'd made up a rather convincing story that her child's father had been in active service, and that he'd been killed in combat a few months after her becoming pregnant. Thanks to Finch's superior skills with government databases, when the Social Security Administration and other official entities checked up on her claim—as she figured they would—none of them were any the wiser. As far as they knew, 'John Reese' was dead, and she was the single mother of two boys who supported them on her early release pension from the NYPD, and through her work as a college professor.

They hadn't quite decided how they were going to handle the living arrangements, but he wanted to be there for her in that way from the outset, at least. For him that meant buying all the baby furniture, buying paint and carpeting in the transformation of her spare room into a nursery, and assembling said furniture once it had arrived to their home.

He'd promised her that she and their baby would never want or need for anything. And she got the foolish notion not to accept his money right out of her head very quickly, once she was reminded about how daunting and costly raising a baby could be. He'd kept his promise.

Joss made sure to get some of Taylor's favorites, as well as to, at John's suggestion, load up on more veggies for experiments with making baby food at home for Aaron. He had been reading up on the subject, and was concerned that some of the commercial food was a bit too commercial, despite label claims of 'all-natural,' and he wanted to make sure that his son got exposed to wholesome ingredients, as he had been as a child, as much as possible. Joss warned him that it was not always practical to make baby food fresh, even for her, though Aaron would more than likely be open to eating whatever Daddy made for him. Since he'd be going back in the field soon, experimenting was probably the way to go. If it didn't take well, Aaron had plenty of choices from the convenient jarred food he'd been getting.

Speaking of Aaron and his food, by the time they had made it out of the store, he was beginning to get cranky, the last bottle he'd had having been at her mother's house. It was also getting on in time, and as soon as they got the car loaded up, they'd be on their way home, to get him his bedtime bath and bottle, and settle him down for night-night.

Oddly enough though, the exit from the store was also the moment when Joss was overcome with a roll and lurch of her tummy. It hadn't happened in the days since John got home, but now it was, and with a vengeance. The weather had warmed up a bit more, and she too had not eaten since the lunch at her mother's. John noticed her slowed gait towards the car, as well as the drawn look on her face.

"Joss? Baby, you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, John. I'm just...really tired all of a sudden. When we get home, can you see to Aaron? I'm going to lie down, I think. Have a little nap or something."

"Yeah...sure, of course. Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're going to be sick."

"Mmmm...just tired, John. Let's get home. Please."

After the bags were packed in the back of the trunk securely, and Aaron was taken out of the cart and strapped into his car seat, they headed off for home. Once they reached the brownstone, Joss got out of the car first and headed for the door, her keys slowly produced from her purse. John, with some suspicion, never took his eyes off her retreating figure as he got Aaron unfastened from the car seat and followed her in with him, to place him in his playpen while he got the groceries out. She stayed in the living room with him until Daddy got everything inside before slowly retreating upstairs. At her retreat, Aaron pulled up on the pen's buffers and began to cry.

"Mommy's going to go and lie down, baby. Daddy's here. Be good, okay? You're fine, baby...John, thank you. I just need to lie down..."

"No, no, go on. I got it covered, sweetie," he said with a kiss to her forehead. "I love you. You need anything, just give a holler, okay?"

"Love you too. I will," she said, as she slowly ascended the steps.

To John, it seemed like more than her just being tired all of a sudden. She seemed as if she were sick to her stomach, like she'd throw up any second. Had she eaten something off at her mom's? Maybe the omelets weren't the best choices for breakfast after all.

But he did as she'd requested, taking care of both the groceries and Aaron as efficiently as he knew how. He unpacked everything for the kitchen and stored it all too, while leaving the items for the upstairs areas near the stairs, before getting his now crabby son settled with his supper, which included a mid-sized bottle, and a bowl of strained baby beef stew and carrots. John's powers of detection also registered that Aaron was in need of changing, so a bath couldn't come soon enough.

"Is Aaron gonna be a good boy for Daddy? Hmm? You're gonna eat all your food and then we go get ready for sleepy night, okay? Your big brother's coming home tomorrow."

Aaron cried until his dinner was fully ready, banging and kicking his still bare feet at his high chair as the minutes passed. It wasn't a full on squall fest, but it was a consistent enough cry and whine that John knew Aaron was very hungry indeed. But soon, his father offered him his first spoon of strained stew and carrots, which cut the crying to mere whimpers, eager as he was to get his meal.

After a period of several minutes, where some of the baby stew got spattered over both his bib and his high chair table from not swallowing each spoonful, Aaron was done with his bowl of baby food and now took his bottle with one hand, while tangling and grabbing at his tousled hair with the other. His eyes and long lashes shown with wet tears, and he hummed and sighed between sucks on the bottle, indicating that he was done for the day, and that he was ready for bed. The only other sounds to be heard were the ticking of the clock on the kitchen shelf, the hum of the refrigerator, and the buzz of draining fluid as Aaron's pulled and clucked on the contents of the bottle.

After a wipe of his mouth and a burp that should have brought the house down, John got his son upstairs and stripped the soaked and smelly diaper off him, cleaning his bottom, but leaving him naked in the crib afterwards, so as to run his bath. He also wanted to peak in on Joss. As he did so, he saw that she was lying down, curled up in the fetal position, and from her even breathing, fast asleep. Perhaps she was just overly tired. They had been up and making love for hours the night before, so if she was a bit zonkered he could understand that. The other was probably all in his head.

Bringing the portable baby tub back to the nursery, John placed it on the large table near the window and got out the baby wash and towels. The water was just the right temperature for a good quick bathing, with no toys this time, so as to take advantage of the warmth before it got cold. Aaron, meanwhile, was enjoying being naked in his crib-though he still went through short bursts of whining at the same time-rolling around here and crawling there, until finally sitting upright, his little pot belly protruding and full from his meal, his tiny rolls of baby fat dimpled and soft. He watched his father get things ready with those big brown eyes, until Daddy came over to pick him up for the tub.

"Yesss, there were are! Time to get your bath, little man. All clean...all clean...yes!" John loved giving Aaron his baths, and Aaron enjoyed him giving them to him. Whatever crankies he still had from being sleepy diminished once in the relaxing and splashy water. John soaped and sponged him thoroughly before rinsing him off all bubbles and wrapping him in a towel. Changing table at the ready, he dried Aaron off before applying lotions and ointments and then his diaper. John toyed with the idea of letting Aaron sleep in just his diaper, but thought better of it when he considered that he might catch cold in the night.

"Hmm, jammies it is, my boy. Don't want to take the chance on you picking up a sniffle that you don't need. Ah, yes, these will do just fine," he said, putting on the ducky two-piece pajamas he'd bought him before coming home. They fit perfectly, and soon, Aaron was ready for bed.

John figured his sleepy son would be asleep as soon as he put him down on the mattress. But Aaron was a creature of habit, if nothing else, and so that just wouldn't do. Coupled with the fact that he thought he'd miss something if stuck to his own devices too long in his crib, the boy immediately began to fuss and roll over when Daddy put him down. Even his binky wasn't satisfactory. John took a deep breath, let it out, and laughed. The boy would need help after all.

"Okay, Aaron, come here. You little stinker. We go night-night together, okay? Okay."

Soon, Aaron had his face snuggled in John's chest as he paced the nursery, humming an old children's song his mother had taught him when he was a boy. Aaron didn't drift off right away, his head occasionally bouncing up to look around the dimmed room for several seconds, binky bobbing up and down in his mouth, before going down again. John simply continued to pace until the steady rhythm of his gait did the trick and Aaron was still. Gently laying him down on his back in the crib with a kiss, John covered Aaron with his blanket and stared at the marvel that was his son, this child that he and Joss created by accident, purely by chance.

No, it was no accident. This boy, just as his fateful meeting of her that day after the fight with the punks on the subway, was meant to be. It's just that neither one of them was expecting it, was looking for it to happen. But he was still supposed to happen. John had needed a purpose, a new lease on life. The numbers gave him that—but Joss and Aaron completed that circle where an opening, a void, had still existed.

Joss had given him heaven, or at least as close to it as he was likely to ever be. He thought about her sleeping in their bedroom. He hoped that whatever had sent her there was indeed just tiredness. Yes, she was a strong woman—but strong women could still sink under the weight of too much on their plates. His walk around Corinne's neighborhood reminded him of that, and all that Joss had been able to do to give them the amazing reality they now had. It was time to see about her.

"Good night, son," he whispered as Aaron breathed evenly in sleep. "Sweet dreams. Love you."

##

The bedroom was now bathed in street light, now that darkness had fully fallen over the summer night. After brushing up teeth, and running fingers through his hair, John stripped his off clothes down to his boxers and quietly joined a sleeping Joss in bed. She was just there, in the clothes she'd worn that day, still, lips parted in slumber. He stared at her for a moment, taking in what he could of her in the dimness of the light before moving closer to strip her own clothes off, down to her bra and panties. Surprisingly, it was only at the touch of his skin to hers, did she stir, whimpering "John..." before turning over into his chest into stillness once more.

He enveloped her body into his and kissed her forehead, wondering still if there was more to what had sent her there than just mere sleepiness. His training had taught him how to be on the alert for situations or incidences that seemed unusual or out of place. He couldn't pinpoint what that niggling feeling was exactly—just that things were somehow...different, all of a sudden. Maybe she knew? Maybe she didn't? Hell, maybe she really, really was just fucking tired.

He sighed heavily in the darkness before kissing her again, and pulling her ever closer to his body, a spare sheet the only cover he would attempt to use, so as not to disturb her further. Taylor was coming home the next day. He hoped that, whatever it was, it wouldn't spoil something they'd all been looking forward to since John had come home that week. He truly didn't want that to happen.

##

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

Joss turned and yawned deeply before responding. "Better, thanks. And thanks for seeing to Aaron last night. Just felt dizzy and tired all at once. Have to remember not to overdo things in this weather, I guess."

"Yes," John said quietly, before adding, with a bit of a side eye, "you sure you're fine now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. In fact, I'm going to go get the baby." Realizing she was only clad in her underwear, she groaned at her state and ran a hand through her loosened hair. "Maybe I'll stop at the bathroom first. Don't need to scare my son to death," she said self-deprecatingly.

##

The sun dawned once again, warm and blazing, after an early morning passing shower, and the family Reese got bathed, breakfasted and ready for the new day. Taylor was due for a pickup in the afternoon, so John took that opportunity to do a little hedge clipping and weed pulling outside for the small plot of backyard they had in their urban homestead. Aaron, sporting a pair of denim overalls and his sun hat, looked on from the safety of his walker, as he enjoyed the summer day outside. The city was alive with movement and sounds, and he was happy to try and listen for all of them as best he could.

Joss had made a pitcher of lemonade and set snacks outside for John if he got hungry. She also took to throwing laundry into the washer and then watering the plants she'd already seeded earlier in the season. There were roses and tulips in varying plots, and she was proud of her little garden, a bit of nature in the grit of Brooklyn.

Soon, it was time to get cleaned up. John and Joss both changed their outdoor grubbies and got the car ready for their next adventure, which was to retrieve Taylor from his dad's house in the Bronx. They would have pizza on the way back. Aaron's bag was packed, and in no time, he was placed in the car seat once again.

Taylor asked if he could just meet them out in the front of his dad's place, which of course was just fine with Joss. She and Paul still didn't see eye to eye on things, even though they hadn't been married since Taylor was a little boy. And now that she had Aaron, Taylor often felt as if he was put in the middle between his parents squabbles, particularly on his dad's end, a man who was most curious about Joss and just who her second baby's father was, even though he was already remarried himself. He didn't quite understand what that was all about, but he didn't want to know. He just wanted to avoid drama if at all possible. He loved his dad, but still. He knew how weird he could get, especially when it came to his mom.

This would be the first time John was involved in coming near his dad's house, and while he really dug John and wanted to see him, he didn't feel like having the fireworks shoot off between the three of them, either. Plus, he knew from the way John only spent a week at a time with them that he was on some secret business that it wouldn't do to have his dad know about. And he'd only pester and dig until he found out what that was all about. So, they agreed for all their sakes, to just collect him from the corner.

Within the hour, they were in sights of the little house just after the highway, and surely enough, as he said he'd be when she called him that morning, young Taylor was waiting at the corner with his backpack and his skateboard. Aaron was the first to see him from the backseat, his excitement at seeing his big brother waiting there barely containable. His enthusiasm was infectious, and both his parents joined in the beaming smiles at the sight of their big kid standing there with his own smiles.

"Baby, how are you?" Joss bounced out of the car and hugged her eldest son as tightly as she could. He'd only been gone a week, but even with all the work there was in caring for Aaron, she missed him. She missed his smile, his jokes. She even missed yelling at him to turn his music down or to not leave the refrigerator door open. She just missed him for him. And now, it was all complete. Her family all under the same roof.

"Ma, I'm good. All good. Wassup, John?"

John smirked at him with a squint in his eye. "What's this? 'Wassup?' What, you too cool to give me a hug now? Your allowance will reflect that."

Taylor walked round to the driver side of the car and hugged John in greeting. "Aw, man, I need that money, Pop. Come on."

"It's good to see you, son. Your little brother has been waiting for you all day."

Taylor looked into the backseat of the car and made a face at Aaron. Aaron could barely contain himself, so excited he was that Taylor was there. They were for sure two brothers, even though Taylor would eventually be twice his age. His baby brother was the light of his life, and though his crying could get on his nerves and even if he didn't always want to take him off his mother's hands when she needed him to, he was very, very glad that Aaron was a part of their lives. He'd always wanted a sibling, and now he had one. He could teach him everything he knew. And he'd always be his protector. He'd always be his big brother.

"Taylor, how's your dad?"

"He's good. The usual, cranky man he is. But I got new Jordans the other day. He can be cranky if he wants to be for that."

They all laughed "Aren't you the extortionist?" John asked, grinning.

"I didn't extort anything. He feels guilty on the one hand for whatever he feels guilty about, and he's still pissed off at Mom for getting on with things. Still wants to know wassup with you two. I just...I don't know. Remind him that he has a wife right in front of him. He can't have the two of you."

"Taylor...I'm sorry you have to deal with all this. I'm sorry. It's not right," Joss said, with the crease now pinging to life between her eye brows. "I'll talk to your father. Tell him to worry about himself and not me. Damn fool."

"Ma, I told you, it's all good. No sweat. Dad is just dad. I don't let it get to me, and you shouldn't either. Long as we have peace, I'm golden. Hey, can we get going? I thought pizza was on schedule."

"Of course. Where do you want to go?" John asked.

##

At Carlo's Pizzeria near 135th Street, Aaron was given the absolute treat of pizza crust with just a little sauce on them to gnaw to his heart's content, which he did most happily. The rest of the family laughed and talked about life in general, a few aspects of John's work—what he could talk about—and Aaron's latest antics. They also made plans for a beach trip before the weekend was gone. Since the forecast called for good weather from there on out, it was the perfect plan. Aaron loved playing in the sand, and John couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten to see Joss in her white string bikini.

"Ugh, no, this is not something I need to hear...for real," Taylor said, wincing. They all laughed then, including Aaron, who just wanted to show his gummy appreciation for the pizza crust.

After downing most of a cheese and pepperoni pizza with drinks, the family, now complete, settled the tab and got back on the road for home. John and Taylor had a pickup game to see to, with the public court a block or two from the brownstone theirs for the taking. Taylor was comfortable in the backseat with Aaron, whom he kept entertained throughout the ride with funny faces, tickles, and games of fetch.

It was all perfect—until the sick feeling hit Joss again, not long after they'd gotten in the house this time. She excused herself to go upstairs again, this time skipping two steps at a time to make it. John held Aaron and watched her again with surprise—and more suspicion this time than the last.

"Joss? What? You not feeling well again? Baby, wait-"

There was no waiting; she just kept going. Taylor, who's eyes darted back and forth on the scene between his mother and her partner, made moves to pick up his gear so as to dump it in his room.

"Um, I'll see how she is. Maybe she had too much pizza or something." Before heading up, he paused, "it's great to have you home, John. Mom and Aaron...and me...you know we miss you...a lot."

"I know. Hey, thanks. Go on up. See about your mom."

As Taylor ascended the stairs, he dumped his bag and board in his room down the hall. Coming back out again, he went to bathroom door, which was firmly shut. He could hear the sounds of his mother's retching through the door.

"Ma!" he whispered forcefully. "Ma!"

The sounds of coughing and spitting could be heard from the other side. "Taylor..." Joss said weakly.

"Ma, you didn't tell him, did you? I mean, John has no idea, does he?"

"Taylor...don't..."

Taylor exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes heavenward. "Ma, are you serious? You still haven't told him?"

"No...no..." she replied weakly.

"Ma...why? You have to tell him, ma."

"No...no...not yet..."

"Well, when, Ma? He's going to know soon enough. You can't keep it from him forever."

"I can't...I can't tell him...not yet..."

"Ma, you can't do this. You have to tell him, and soon. You have to tell John you're pregnant again!"

 **A/N: So, those of you who are quick on the draw got the wrench in the works right off. I never really meant to make it secret, of course, from you all, the readers; but _John_ is the one who still has no idea. Well, he may have a little more of one than he might have before now. At least he knows something is 'off' here. Corinne and Taylor are hip. Hey, even Aaron may know. I've read that babies can sense when things are going on inside Mommy that they react to.**

 **This one was an extended chap, more so than most of the others. I like the idea of being able to get out the inner workings of the relationship even in a setting like the supermarket. Certain aspects of the shopping trip revealed more about how it all functions; I especially love how John is a real man who supports his son and his mother, handing her that support check each month without fail, even if she could sort of manage it on her own financially. John makes it so she doesn't have to. If only all men were like that.**

 **But now that there's a bonafide second bun in the oven, Joss can't do that on her own. Two babies under the age of three? And a teen son? Rough stuff. However, the numbers are strong; the pull of the hero complex is strong. And that wouldn't dissipate now just because John is a family man with three kids. The next chaps still see Sunday coming. What will Joss do? What will John do? Well, I haven't decided yet, haha! What do you guys think should happen?**

 **In any case, thank you for reading, if you have and I hope this finds you well. I appreciate any and all feedback. Blessings for a good week.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So it seems that everyone in the immediate family knows what's up with Joss—except John. She is torn with this secret: on the one hand, she absolutely understands John will soon have to know that he's going to be a father again, but at the same time, she also doesn't want to pressure him into having to give up his vocation—just because she's pregnant and really wants and NEEDS him to be there with her and the children more often. Besides, pressuring him has thus far never worked. Even though he loves and cherishes Aaron to bits, he still leaves at the end of the week he spends with them at home to go back to the streets, each time with a rebuff of her protests.**

 **But this is huge. They will have three children in total; and at this rate, Aaron will still be under the age of two when the new baby is born. After not having had an infant for fifteen or sixteen years, then to suddenly have two babies at the same time, would be hard for any mother, the formidable Joss Carter being no exception. And Taylor still needs to be looked after too, despite his older years.**

 **It's certainly the best of times and the worst of times in the Carter-Reese household. But in the meantime, there is a hoops shooting session between John and Taylor, and a trip to the beach before it all comes to a head. Getting close to the end of this one—though a sequel, including a new conflict, has been bubbling around in my head.**

 **Thank you for reading.**

"Three pointer, T! Three pointer! Easy, man!"

"Aww, John, I let you get that one. A lucky one off the rim!"

"No way, kid. I got you down, and you're goin' in the drawer, Mr. Carter."

"Okay, let's go then. Aaron can be the ref. Huh, little man? You gonna watch your big bro take Pop down again? Yeah? Um hmm, that's right."

Aaron clapped his hands haphazardly as he watched his father and his brother, among other people and things, play a spirited and sweaty game of street ball at the court just a block away from their brownstone. He was perched in his stroller seat, upright, with the hood pulled back so he'd be assured not to miss all the excitement of John and Taylor battling it out, complete with the usual trash talk, in a rematch from the month before, where Taylor had just squeaked by a 59-52 victory over his "Pop," a term of youthful affection which he often used interchangeably with "John." It was a rematch that both were looking forward to, as Taylor, though he won the game, felt he hadn't beaten John, since the score was so close. For a guy in his middle age, John was still a remarkably adept basketball player. Taylor had had to work for that win.

Notably absent from this game though, was his mom. Joss had opted to stay in and rest some more, as she was still under the weather and didn't want to ruin the game for the boys with them fretting about her every second. At least that's what she told John. Taylor, in earshot of the excuse she gave him, clucked his tongue and shook his head so that neither of them could see. He guessed he could understand why his mother wasn't being forthcoming about what was going on, but it still seemed unfair of her to keep something like that from Pop. That's a piece of news any man would want to know, or at least should know, so he could figure out what to do.

Adults were weird to Taylor sometimes, even his mother, whom he loved dearly. She had this crazy guilty conscience about when he was little and she wasn't around as much as she could have been because she and his dad had been deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan. She felt guilty, like she had kept him from having a real childhood, and so she fussed over him more now that he was getting on in years and soon off to college.

He thought she was crazy because he never held any of that against her. He knew she was doing right in serving their country, and he was actually rather proud of her, always had been. But Mom still felt bad. She still felt like she owed him something. He could never really communicate to her how foolish that was, and that he was happy with the life she'd given him. She'd always done the very best she could.

And now there was going to be another baby. Another little brother, or maybe a sister this time. The doctor had confirmed it a few weeks before—and then, the sickness started. That's how he found out. At first, his grandmother had to spend a few days at the brownstone to help her deal with Aaron while she had that weird sickness he heard pregnant women got. It had been really rough on her for a few days, but then it got better. Now, she was having the sickness again. Being a woman was no joke.

The ball whizzed into the net easily while Taylor was lost in the thoughts he'd fallen into while they played. While he still played the game, fancy footwork included, John picked up on the fact that the shot he got should have been easily defended and blocked against. When it wasn't, he studied Taylor for a second or two, dribbling the ball at ease, walking it slowly back to the young man before passing it.

"Taylor, now you know that I don't expect freebie points off you like that. You tired?"

"Umm, nah, Pop. We can keep going. Won't be so easy this time. Put it in play."

John passed the ball and their rally resumed. At the end of the rally, Taylor went for a lay up that was natural for him sink—and the ball got knocked out of his hand before he could get off the ground. When John eased up to let him recover, Taylor merely put his hands on his hips and let the ball bounce away from him, headed towards the fence. Aaron, still comfy in his stroller, strained his little body against the restraints to try and catch a glimpse of the ball as it bounced up and down, and away from him.

John cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. Taylor stood, silently, chest heaving, a look of discomfort on his face.

"Not tired, huh? Here, come and get some of this water in the jug, son."

"I'm fine, Pop. Really."

"Well, maybe after you have some water, you'll be fine. Come on. We've been playing for a while. I'll have some too. A little break never hurts. Besides, I should probably look in on your brother."

"Okay." Taylor and John both got cups of water from the jug John had brought to the court. So far it was just the three of them on the public court, which was not always the case. Street ball on their block was rather popular, but they'd lucked out in that there had been just a few other ballers on the asphalt when they got there, and since then, those guys had taken off.

John took his mug and wandered over to see how Aaron was doing. The boy smiled at his father, offered him a baby rattle, one of a few in the stroller with him.

"Hey, you," John said softly, smiling in turn. "You wanna get out of that stroller? My good little boy. Yes...hey, did you see how Taylor missed that shot? He's getting soft, you know. I think so."

Taylor groaned. "Okay, okay, Pop. God, I can't miss one lay up? Maybe...maybe I am tired. Whatever."

"Taylor, you know if something's bothering you, you can talk me. You know that. So...is there anything you want to talk about?" John asked, after putting his cup down to unbuckle Aaron from the stroller to take him out.

Taylor took a gulp of his water before answering. "I'm worried about Ma," he said after a beat of hesitation.

John hoisted Aaron up into his arms, while studying Taylor's face. The underlying distraction and concern he sensed from the boy was real.

"Okay. What's got you worried?"

"I don't know," Taylor lied. "Lots of things. She's under a lot of stress."

"What kind of stress?"

"Just...stress. The baby, me...we're stressful. She does a lot for us. She's devoted to us."

"Yes, that's true. Have you talked to her about this, how you feel?"

"It's not just how I feel, Pop. It's what I know. That's why she's at home now, not feeling well. She tries to pretend and get through everything, but I know it's not been easy for her."

"Your mom's a strong woman, Taylor. She's the strongest woman I know."

"Yeah," Taylor replied. "She is. But it can get to her. It's hard, sometimes, especially when you're away at work so much."

John stopped to ponder Taylor's words. Usually, when issues of John's job came up, it had to do with what Aaron and Taylor were missing out on in not having him home every night for dinner. Only occasionally did she spin that conversation towards herself.

"But yeah, sometimes we talk about things. Sometimes I hear her crying at night, like after finally getting Aaron to sleep when he's been cranky and stubborn and won't stop crying. He doesn't do that as much as he used to, like a few months ago, but sometimes he does still. She feels bad because she doesn't think she's enough for him. Or for me. I wonder if other moms feel that."

John's mouth thinned into a grim line as he heard Taylor's words. "I've heard they can."

"Yeah, I guess. She misses you. We all do. But we do the best we can," Taylor said, looking down at his shoes and falling into silence.

"Taylor, listen. I've talked with your mom about this, and I'm going to tell you this now. You three are the most important people in my world. Now, as it is, I can't be here all the time because of the job I do, a job that your mom kind of used to do, but it's necessary, and crazy guys like me are the ones to do it."

They both laughed at that. "Yeah, you are crazy, Pop."

"Exactly. But seriously, it's all about the bigger picture, Taylor. If I can help that along, it makes things better for all of you. I want my children to grow up in a safer city than it has been over the years. Now, your mom and I, along with some other very dedicated people, have worked very hard to make that happen. But there's still a lot more to be done. Besides," he said, a smirk now on his face, "if I don't work, how will I keep you and your baby brother in food each month? You should see how much grub is in the kitchen from our shopping yesterday. None of it will go to waste, will it?"

Taylor laughed again, welcoming the brief respite in humor. "Yeah, that's what I'm about, Pop. Aaron and I get fed real good, huh, Aaron? Hey, want me to hold him for a minute?"

"Sure. I'll put some water in his bottle too. Hey, thanks for leveling with me, son. I'll keep what we've talked about in mind."

"Yeah, Pop. Okay."

Taylor took a hold of Aaron from John and began to bounce him gently in his arms, much to Aaron's contentment. He then began to walk him a little around the basketball court while John prepped a water bottle for the baby. A moment or two later, John raised his head to the squeak of the court gate and saw Joss slowly walk towards them, a slight smile on her face. She looked rested, but still a little weak. He kissed her cheek and caressed her back with the briefest touch of his fingers.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Better. The resting helps."

"Hi, Ma," Taylor called from the other side, while Aaron hollered out to her as well.

She waved and grinned at the sight of her two boys on the court. "So, who won the game?"

"It was called early. I think we're done for the day. It was a good game though, while it lasted."

John gently pulled Joss into his arms for a deep and loving hug, punctuated with kisses. His body was warm with dew and scent of natural sweat, and she reveled in his maleness, despite her earlier bout with a resurgent morning sickness. He would always arouse her senses, no matter what. She would always know that scent, that warmth. He was a part of her, as surely as her children were, as surely as the life now growing inside her was.

She still could not tell him. Not on that basket ball court. But she would. Before Sunday, she would tell him all about it.

Taylor returned with Aaron, who reached out to his mommy. As she took him into her arms, John pulled her back into his embrace, but this time, also extending that gesture to Taylor as well.

They were a family. A family with its ups and downs—but nevertheless, a family. A family that was, within a matter of months, about to get bigger. It was the best of times—or at least, it promised to be.

 **A/N: Another voice to add in the campaign, thanks to Taylor. Beach weekend to come, and then John learns the truth. He will have decisions to make. Thanks for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: An overnight at a beach resort near the City; the weekend winds down, John gets ready to switch gears, other plans unfold. This update is split into two chapters. Here is the first, Chap 14. Thank you all for reading.**

The family returned from the basketball court for dinner, with Aaron waving his arms and hands to and fro from his stroller and cooed to himself as it moved down the block, Taylor having taken on the job of pushing him. John and Joss walked beside them, hand in hand. Everyone, even Joss, was hungry, especially after not having been able to keep much down from earlier on. Since she was feeling up to it—and since she insisted on it—it was decided that Joss would do the cooking that night, while John once again got Aaron settled with his pre-supper snack in his high chair. Though he'd had a few feedings that day, family dinnertime was never a problem for Aaron, who, in the last few months of his development, generally had just as much of an appetite at family dinner as he might on his own.

Taylor, after washing up, was to be in charge of setting the dining room table. For his homecoming meal, they had some of his favorites: fried chicken cutlets, sweet potatoes, mixed green salad, buttermilk biscuits, and corn on the cob. For dessert, Joss managed to whip up a pan of banana pudding on short notice, using instant pudding mixes, milk, whipping cream, bananas and vanilla wafers. She even left a tiny portion set aside for Aaron, who would enjoy immensely such a rare treat. This was also the time where John, wanting to make good on his promise, had asked Joss to steam some of the squash and peas they'd bought the day before, so as to include it with Aaron's dinner.

"We could help save the planet while we're at it, too, what with not buying so many glass jars of baby food," he said, as he found the blender under the cupboard.

"Boy, John, when you get a notion, there's no stopping you, is there?" she replied, grinning. "Not so fast though. I'll still want him to have the carrots from the store brand. I think I read somewhere that regular carrots might be harmful to a baby's tummy, especially with the pesticides."

"You sure?" John asked, puzzled. He figured if the produce was organic that would make a difference.

"Oh, yeah, Pop," Taylor chimed in from within earshot. "We did a study at school in my Environmental Science class that says even organic veggies can get pesticides on them, if airborne. Telling you, there is nothing you can do to keep all the bad stuff out, no matter how hard you try."

John nodded. "Meh, okay. But the squash should be fine.. Here, I'll take him for some floor time before supper. He's been cooped up in that stroller for the last little while, and now he's in the high chair. We gotta get some baby exercise. Right, little guy?" he said, scooping Aaron out of his high chair and bringing him to the living room rug.

Soon, the kitchen and then the entire house was filled with the aromas of spices and other scents from the meal prep. Joss was glad the last wave of nausea was gone, for she wouldn't have been able to cook for her family otherwise. She still wanted to take caution and only eat what she could, gradually taking in enough food to fill her tummy without overdoing it. But she had to remember that she was eating for two again. The child growing inside her needed its nourishment too.

While John played with Aaron, Taylor got in a little time with Joss, who was then placing the peeled sweet potatoes and other ingredients needed in the pot while checking on the cutlets in the oven.

"You okay, Ma?" he asked in hushed tones.

"Umm, yeah," she said quietly, tucking a lock of her inky dark hair behind her ears. "The pains are gone. Nothing left to throw up. I'm okay, yeah."

"Ma, you need to tell him. Please tell him. I mean, you're gonna have another baby. And Aaron is like, still a baby, too. So that means all these babies in the house."

Joss scoffed in jest at him. "Boy, what you mean 'all these babies'?" It's only two. Well, three if I count you, my first baby. That's not a lot. Well, okay, it's more than I ever used to have, but-"

"Ma, I'm serious. Yeah, count me too. I'm still here. That's three of us. You can't take care of all of us on your own. And if John is still working in the city, doing like, cop stuff, he can't be here with you. Unless you _tell_ him to be. If he knew, he'd do it."

"What would he do, Taylor? Stop working full-time, like I did? We can't live on just what I make alone, especially with three kids. And John makes a good living, a good living that bought you these chicken cutlets you like so much. He...he does take care of us...gives us everything we need..." Joss' voice trailed off as the blood beat strong in her heart and she arranged the ears of corn in the large pot for boil. Even she didn't buy her own line, in full. It was as if someone had come behind her, turned the crank and now those words, those acquiescing words, tumbled out of a mouth that while attached to her face, wasn't really hers. After all the arguments, all the pleas to get John to give them more time, to give them more of him, was she really saying these things to her son with a straight face?

Taylor was the one to give voice to that discrepancy. "Ma, come on! I've heard you on the phone with Pop, arguing about Aaron and me needing him more often than we get him, remember? I hear how much you worry for him out there, even if he is a bad ass and can take on all the bad guys single handedly. One wrong move, one wrong step, and he's toast, Ma. I know that."

"Taylor, don't..." she said, shuddering with the thought of losing John to the streets, as well as the fact that her beautiful eldest son was too damn smart for her own good.

But Taylor didn't stop. He chose his words somewhat carefully, but he didn't stop.

"And when he leaves after the week, how hard it is for you, for all of us, to let him go. Well, that's the way it's been—but if we're having another baby, something will have to change. Gramma says it too. You can't do this on your own, as strong and as great as you are, Ma. And I," he said, looking down, "I don't want to take his place. I'm your son, too, Ma. Not your fill-in for John when he's not around. I have my own life, my friends, my own stuff to think about. I love Aaron to death, you know that. I love being his big brother. But—it's not always fair, Ma."

Joss whipped round him at that point, a mixture of amusement and irritation in her still-hushed voice. "Taylor, really? You're in school most of the day and when you aren't I do not stop your coming and going if you please. Do I ask you to help out with your little brother sometimes, and around the house? Yes. But that's not to the point where you don't have your own life and your own interests. Every once and a while I need a hand with Aaron, but-"

"But if you're having another baby, you'll need more than a hand, Ma. I may not know a lot about adult life, but I know that much. And I'll be the one here for that, me and gramma. Not Pop. You have to tell him, Ma. He deserves to know. And us kids deserve for him to know. I don't see what the big deal is, anyway. It's not like Pop won't love the new baby the way he loves Aaron and me. What are you so afraid of?"

"Taylor," Joss started with a heavy sigh, "your Pop will hear it from me soon enough. I promise you. But for the time-being, let us just have a nice family dinner together and-"

She was suddenly cut off by the sound of a falling object, then a thud, followed by, finally, the wail and scream of an infant voice from the living room. Her blood felt hot with the adrenaline of mother's instinct at the sound of her child crying. Quickly leaving the stove, both she and Taylor raced to the living room, to find John there, cuddling Aaron while rubbing his forehead, his shushing and cooing doing little to quell the alarm bell that was his son's cry of pain.

"John, what happened? Is he okay?"

"Our poor boy took a little tumble while he tried to stand up and hold onto the coffee table. Hit his head on the way down. I couldn't catch him." He continued to try and soothe Aaron, but it was no use. Joss could see the beginnings of a bruise on her little man's forehead.

"Here, let me take him, John. We might have to move this table to another spot. Not the first time he's fallen down trying to pull up on it. Oh my goodness."

Aaron wailed more, his little face turning first red, then purple-red, as his mouth drooled saliva and his two growing bottom teeth shown white against the pink of his gums.

"Ma, should I get some ice? That bruise looks for real."

"Yeah, baby, thank you. Just wrap it in a baggie and then a towel, okay?"

"Yep, sure thing." Taylor went back to the kitchen for the ice.

"Are you okay, boo? Yes. I know it hurts. Taylor's going to come with something to make it better, okay? You'll be fine."

The tender loving care Joss gave her son eventually calmed his screams. She hoisted him on her shoulder and let him put his head there, gently rocking side to side while he whimpered and stared at his daddy, who felt awful about his fall. While he knew that babies Aaron's age fell—and that he'd taken tumbles before—it was never easy to see his child in distress or in pain. He had been present in Dr. Nichol's office when Aaron got his two-month and sixth-month battery of shots, and he thought he'd lose his mind hearing his child suffer under those needles. It was all of a second or two, but the effects were immediate, as the poor little mite wailed his helpless displeasure each time. Of course, John knew that it was all for the best, all for his son's health and safety—but it still wasn't easy. Joss, of course, having been through this before, handled her own emotions much better.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, "It's my fault. I'm sorry," he said quietly, as he rubbed Aaron's back. Aaron continued to stare at him, and continued to whimper, until his nose began to itch and he wiped it and his drooly mouth on Joss' chest. And indeed, the bruising on his forehead was clearly visible.

"Here you go, Ma," said Taylor, handing her the makeshift ice pack.

"Thank you, T. Do me a favor and check on the cutlets?"

"Yep, I already did, Ma. They'll be ready in a little bit. And the potatoes smell great."

"Good. I'll sit with him for a little while." She gently touched John on his arm. "John, can you handle the rest of dinner?"

"I'm on it, sweetie." He took her hand and squeezed it before slowly kissing Aaron on the cheek. "You're in good hands with Mommy, son. All better in no time soon. We're definitely going to have to try to do our best to get you walking without so many tumbles, though. How's that sound? Daddy will be more careful next time."

At first, Aaron fussed with the ice on his forehead, the strange, cold object inciting a mildly irritated curiosity. But once he felt it's power to take some of the pain from the bump on his head away, he left it be for a minute or two before he'd had enough and began to wrestle with it again.

"Ah, you're such a good little trooper with the cold ice. The best little boy in the world," John gushed quietly, smiling, in gentle awe of his son and how resilient he was.

"Yes, yes he is. Go on and make sure Taylor doesn't let the chicken burn. We'll be along in a little bit."

John got up and went to the kitchen. She could hear her two men fussing over the pots together and giggled at their easy going relationship. That was what she'd hoped would happen between them, all those months ago, after HR's takedown, when she first started seeing John seriously, and he began spending more time with the both of them. Once she became pregnant with Aaron, she sat her son down with John and talked through his feelings with him, in an attempt to try and make sure that he understood that, while their lives were all going to change with the new baby, that she was still there for him as she had been, that she was his mother and he was her baby still, as it would always be. Taylor, to his credit, while having to absorb everything they talked about over days and weeks, was ultimately fine with everything, thrilled even, and assured his mother that she had nothing to worry about in him not being able to roll with the new changes in their lives.

Now, there was another child on the way. Good lord, she must have been crazy to think that after Aaron this would be the last she'd know of swollen ankles, swollen bellies, backaches, and at her age, the looming threat of gestational diabetes. She had read that, as a nursing mother, just as with passing certain age milestones, pregnancy wasn't all that likely. And since she and Paul had never had another child besides Taylor, even more so. But that didn't mean it was impossible. And clearly, it wasn't, after fifteen years. Now she was like a baby making factory, she thought humorously to herself. And what if, God forbid the baby she was carrying turned out not to be a baby, but two babies? It did run in her family, after all, with her great-grandmother and great-aunt having being identical twins. She'd definitely have to impress upon Finch the need for John to get a raise, since they'd surely have to hire a nanny to help her from going completely insane in that case.

She was now just about seven and a half weeks along, the conception more than likely having taken place during her and John's quick weekend away from the kids up at a resort in the Catskills. It had been some time since they'd had such an outing, unlike the one they were going on this coming weekend, because it was just the two of them, away from home for more than a few hours at a time. Afterwards, a little hiking and candlelit dinner led to some pretty heady sex in their cabin. John had been particularly eager, a tough case having gotten the best of him. It shook him to the core, hit too close to his skin, a number having to do with a child caught up in an abusive situation. While he would only go into detail just so far, Joss knew how sensitive he was to children in trouble, even before they had Aaron. Now that he was a father, the urgency to protect the youngest and most vulnerable was even more profound. And when he finally made it home after nearly losing this child to the darkness, he was shaken—and needy.

He could be like that: the man who looked for solace from the world's evil in her arms as he fought it each day. Her body, when the whole holding-the-planet-on-his-shoulders lifestyle was just too much to bear, was his harbor in the tempest. And in looking back on it, Joss had to admit that something felt different between them after they had spent the time there and came back to New York City. Of course, she wasn't thinking that she'd conceived another child, but in hindsight, perhaps she subconsciously knew, instantly, that such a thing had happened.

As she rocked Aaron, his whimpers were nearly subsided. The journey she was embarking on was completely new territory; there was a decade and a half age difference between Aaron and Taylor; between Aaron and his new brother or sister, there would be about a year and a half's age difference. Two children, under the age of three together, both needing care, both needing guidance at the utmost level. Aaron's terrible twos would coincide with the time that the third child would probably begin crawling along with other milestones of that age. She'd have to be ready for the Olympics to deal with that. And what of Aaron's reaction to another small child in the house? While he'd still essentially be a baby himself, he wouldn't be the youngest anymore. She'd read up on infant siblings and the tendency for the older baby to be a bit resentful of the younger one, even before birth. It was indeed uncharted water for her.

Joss sighed. Aaron was calm and was actually wiggling to get away from her back onto the floor with his toys. It was just as well. She was getting ahead of herself with all the "what ifs" of this third child when she hadn't even told its father that it was coming. There was absolutely no reason to get herself tied into knots about Aaron and sibling rivalry at least until she'd given their father time to know and absorb the fact that he was to be a part of all this too.

Besides that, she was getting hungry. Dinner was just about ready, as John and Taylor began putting the finishing touches on the dining room table, pulling Aaron's high chair closer and placing condiments out in various locations on the table.

"Mommy needs food, Aaron. How about you? You ready to eat-eat?" she said, using the cutesy baby jargon she did with him.

Aaron continued to wiggle around until his feet nearly slid to the floor, and murmured his "daaaaas" and "moooooommmms" as he would.

John came back into the living room at that point. He smiled when he saw Aaron and how the boo-boo on his head didn't seem to be breaking his stride anymore. "Are we hungry?" he said, hands on his hips.

"Yes, we are. How did the the baby food come out?"

"Oh, I think he'll be good with it. Not too watery, good consistency. Come on. Dinner's ready."

Joss scooped Aaron up and followed John into the dining area, depositing him in his high chair while John got the wipes to clean his hands before serving him. Taylor, since the meal was in his honor, was already at the table, just waiting for his mother and John to join him. He was especially keen on that banana pudding dessert.

Soon, plates were passed around, and dishes served. Aaron was most agreeable to Daddy's squash and peas, along with his other food, even though a good bit of it ended up in his hair and all over the high chair table. When it was time for him to get his banana pudding, Joss took the cookies out and mashed the few pieces of banana to make it easier for him to handle. When his portion was done, he whimpered for a little more. But Joss didn't want to overdo it on the dairy at that point in his development, so she decided against that. His little belly popped up and she burped him in short order before putting him back in his high chair as the rest of the family continued to eat and chat about a number of topics: Taylor's upcoming school year, the weather, football season, and their trip to the beach before John headed back to the field.

"We'll need to get packed up in the next little while. Everyone else has the same idea we do, so an early start is crucial," John said, picking up Aaron's binky from the floor and placing it in his pocket for washing.

"Hey, Aaron, the beach!" Taylor said across the table. "I can teach you how to build a sand castle."

"Oh, that sounds like fun," Joss said. "I think he'd like that, Taylor."

"Luckily for us, Finch got us a motel that's close to the water and the amusement park nearby that wasn't full."

"You mean, he owns the motel, and you made a phone call, which got us the rooms we need, John. Nice try."

"Well, what's the point of working with a reclusive billionaire if you can't take advantage of it?" he shrugged with a smirk.

Aaron banged his hands on his high chair at that point. John chuckled. "Isn't that right, Aaron? Finch has his uses."

The family stayed gathered at the dining room table for some time, until the baby got antsy and wanted out of his high chair. Soon, dishes were taken to the kitchen for loading in the dish washer and all foods were wrapped and put away. Joss and John got Aaron upstairs for his bath and hair wash, while Taylor stayed downstairs to play video games on the flat screen. He could hear Aaron giggling and then squealing for some reason or other—and then his mom calling down to him: "Taylor, don't spend all night playing those video games. You need to get packed for the weekend, and then get some sleep. You hear me, boy?"

"Yeah, Ma. I know," he called back. "I already have stuff in my bag from Dad's house."

"Okay. Well, we're all going to get ready for bed. I mean, it. No more than an hour or so with the electronics. We have to get up early."

"Yeah, Ma. Good night. Good night, Pop and Aaron."

Taylor sank into the couch, video game console in hand, sighing to himself. "Hooray for the beach," he muttered.

 **A/N: So after this chapter, featuring the hazards of being an eight month old trying to grow up to fast (ouch, Aaron!), the family goes to Montauk Beach (I sorta made that up) for some fun in the sun—and a turning point. Chap 15 is in progress as we speak. I should have that uploaded not long after this one. Thanks for reading.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Chapter 15, at the beach. I had fun writing this one. I can see Aaron splashing around in the surf once he gets used to the ocean chill. And John in his trunks—enough said, haha.**

 **Enjoy, and thank you.**

It was still dark when the family began to rise, get showers and dressed for their getaway. Joss had Aaron's clothing, diapers, wipes and other things packed in his bag that she would put into John's large Army knapsack with his things, as they wouldn't fit with hers. Once they got a light breakfast in, they loaded up and made sure the alarm system was functional before heading off just before sunrise to Montauk Beach and Resort. They'd just be there for the day and overnight, with John having to get back the next afternoon to pack up again and return to the field. They would do their best to make this beach trip as relaxing and fun as possible.

The ride took a little over two hours, which made for a calm trip. Both boys and Joss caught up on their sleep as John drove. The early start made for slightly lighter traffic, so it was all smooth traveling until they made it to the resort. Some cars and campers were already heading in with them, so the wait to park, check in and unpack was considerable. That was fine, though, as Joss and the kids continued to get more sleep time in, while the cars crawled at a snail's pace.

He looked over at her as she dozed, striking a cool and classy figure in her sunglasses, hat and cut off denims, with a halter top covering her bikini top. She seemed better, the color and spirit in her cheeks. Her sleep the night before was a bit restless, but he chalked that up to her having had rest before dinner. There were no complaints about her tummy or anything, and she was as happy to be on the go as they all were.

John was glad that she was doing better. Had she not been, there would have been no trip, as he would have stayed home to take care of her, happily, of course, but he was grateful that they boys didn't miss their first trip to the beach together, as a family. And he was looking forward to a little bit of swimming in the open Atlantic.

After about an hour, they finally reached the motel parking lot and John left them all in the car as he checked in. Though it was still early morning, the sun was already out and blazing. Perfect, he thought. The water temps would be cold, but welcome in the sweltering sun. He'd have to remember to put sunblock on Aaron before they went out.

"Okay, guys, wake up. We're here," he said, upon returning.

Joss was the first to stir. She stretched and moaned behind her shades. "Hello, John. God, how long have we been asleep?"

"Pretty much since you crawled into the car. Welcome to Montauk."

##

"Weeee, Aaron! Weee!" Taylor took turns dipping Aaron into the water. Each time the tide washed in, his little feet and legs got a drenching, and while at first he was a little afraid of the rush of water, he soon took to it well, and after a while, squealed in delight and anticipation of the water working its magic.

John and Joss sat on their chairs and watched the boys play amongst the other beach goers. It was crowded, but not impossibly so, which was nice. She had balked at doing this for the 4th of July holiday because it would have been nuts, and John wouldn't have been there anyway; however, the throngs of people milling to and fro didn't obscure her view of her children, so it was a good time to be there.

"I think I'll join the kids, have a little swim," John said, wiggling his big feet at the end of the chair. "You coming?"

"Nah, I'll stay here with our things. You go on ahead. I think Aaron would love to see his daddy get all splashed. We can take turns, maybe."

"Hmm, Aaron's daddy would love to see you get all wet in that string bikini," he said suggestively, winking through his shades and smiling, the tan already taking hold of his skin.

"I'll bet you would," she laughed. "Go on, get out of here."

"Be right back," John said with a quick kiss. He then scuppered off to meet up with the boys. He was dressed in dark blue swim shorts with a white string tie in the front, his salt-and-pepper hair loose and free of gel. His broad back and chest were covered in suntan oil as he sauntered across the sand, and Joss knew that it wouldn't take long for him to turn almost as bronze as she was. He was gorgeous, her man, looking every bit like the American hero he was, and she had to grin under her shades as she noticed some of the other women give him the once-over, while he was completely oblivious to the attention.

Once he reached them, she could see Aaron giggle and lift his legs out of the water, in an effort to get closer to his father. John took hold of the baby from Taylor and gave him a kiss, making sure that the slight warm breeze that had billowed up from the waves didn't take Aaron's sun hat from him, even though it was velcro strapped under his chin.

From there, John, Aaron, and Taylor began to walk together to a less populated spot of the shore, but still within Joss' view. She could see John toss the baby in the air to his utter delight, while Taylor laughed and made faces at his brother, causing even more delight for her little man. They continued to walk a little further, until John decided to venture out into the surf with Aaron, perhaps about three feet in. High tide was just beginning, but she knew that John and her children were safe. He would never let anything happen to Aaron, or himself. Her son was as good as in God's hands with his father in the water.

Carefully, slowly, John dipped the baby into the water, just to about his chest. At first, Aaron squealed in fright and probably shock at the chill of the water on a part of himself that hadn't been submerged. His distress alarmed her at first, but Daddy was gentle and patient, and he continued to slowly and carefully dip and pull Aaron into and out of the surf so he could get used to it. And pretty soon, he was fine, taking to the water much as he did his bath tub at home. She had to remember that as soon as he could walk that she should try to get him into an infant/toddler swim class at the local YMCA.

"Well, it's a good thing John found those swim diapers online," she said to herself. The swim trunk diapers were perfect for him, since he could get wet without the worry of accidents or heavy disposables. John had been thinking about water play for Aaron a few months back, and on one of his weeks home had presented her with the pack of swim diapers for just such an occasion. She had to admit he thought of everything.

Taylor followed along and helped John with Aaron's introduction to the ocean further, by gently splashing and pouring handfuls of water on his brother. When he happened to spy a piece of floating seaweed on the surface, Taylor picked it up and showed it to his little brother, who of course, just had to grab at it. Taylor also found for him a rock and a seashell—but all of them he had to get back from Aaron, since the only thing he wanted to do with them was put them right in his mouth.

After several minutes, John motioned to Taylor to have him take Aaron back to their spot so that Joss could also have a little time in the water. He would stay in the surf with her while the boys hung out with the buckets, shovels, and other belongings.

"There are also a few bucks in my wallet in the knapsack if the ice cream guy comes around. Help yourself, if you'd like one or something else. And be sure to give Aaron his water bottle. His banana puffs are in there somewhere, too."

"Okay, Pop. Come on, Aaron, let's build that sandcastle we were talking about. Come on!"

Aaron's bottom lip curled into a pout and he began to cry when he felt his little body being pulled up and out of the water. He was having a great time, and he didn't want it to end just yet.

"Come on, Aaron, it's okay. You'll get all wrinkly if you stay out here," Taylor said. "And Ma's gonna come in to play now. Let's go and build our castle. Come on."

"There's my good boy," John cooed to him. "I'll see you in a little bit. Build a _big_ castle for Daddy, okay? Thanks, T."

John turned to give Aaron a kiss and a hat adjustment after wiping the sweat from his brow. He still fussed a little, and when John tried to kiss his nose, he abruptly turned away. John stayed facing Joss' direction, knowing that she'd been watching, and motioned her with his fingers to come down. When the kids got back to her, she dried Aaron off and got him settled with sand toys, water, and snacks before getting up, taking off her shades and wrap, and going down towards where John was in the water.

John smiled at her as she approached him, a vision in mocha and white in her string bikini. She was beautiful and curvy, sexy, and something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was as if, in the light of the sun, she was more _alive_ , somehow. Her entire being was on some other level. Every step she took, every swing of her arms towards him was like a dream. One would have never known that she'd been feeling so poorly over the past few days what with the woman he was looking at then.

Such a gorgeous lady. And she was all his. He remembered what Taylor had said the other day about his dad's remote possesiveness of Joss. Paul could go fuck himself. He had no right to be concerned or jealous of Joss and whatever she was doing anymore. So what if he'd been a fool to not get help for his PTSD and let her slip through his fingers in the process? All the better for John. And now that they had Aaron, he'd never let her go.

"Hey, you. Were you calling me?" she purred.

"No better woman on this beach, Miss Jocelyn. Come on in, the water's fine."

Taking his hand, Joss stepped off the hot sand and into the chilly water. At first, she squealed and protested the cold, but John pulled and coaxed her further, until she was in his arms and about waist deep in the surf. Dipping his head down, John brushed her lips gently with a kiss, then two, then three, the third one a lingering kiss of love and devotion. The surf continued to lap around them both, as kids and teens ran across them, boogie boarded behind them, and flapped their feet underneath them, usually profuse with apologies for the accidental bump or splash of water in their direction.

The couple held on to each other, laughing, splashing, and submerging themselves in the open ocean. Joss was enjoying herself for the first time since their date night, and John too was able to let loose and revel in the freedom he so often denied himself as a vigilante. It was a beautiful day, full of sun and brightness, suntan oil, surf, and love.

"We all right, Joss?"

"Yes, we're all right. I love you, baby."

"I love you, too. I'm glad you're feeling better. I wouldn't have wanted you to miss this day with us," John said nuzzling her on the forehead.

"I wouldn't have missed it. Even if someone would have had to carry me out here."

"Oh, well, then, I guess you won't mind me doing this," John replied lifting her up and then dumping her in the water, to screams and then sputters as Joss remerged and began her campaign of vengeance. She splashed water at him relentlessly until John went for a dive in about five feet of water and began breast stroking away from her into deeper water.

"I'm not going out there, John Reese! Crazy fool. Enjoy your swim. I think I'm going to up and check on the boys."

He waved from behind before the next stroke, careful to only go out so much further, before turning back to head for shore and and sand himself.

##

Aaron had had a decent time of trying to manipulate the shovel and pail, as well as the seashells and colored stones his brother had dug up for him. Of course, Taylor had needed to be careful that none of those items ended up in his mouth, but for the most part they had a good time of it. Aaron wasn't at the age for digging just yet, but he did enjoy banging the shovel against the bucket, as well as dumping the sand out Taylor had filled it with, and exploring the texture of the sand with his hands, wet and dry.

Soon, Joss returned from the water, with John following not long after. Both of them were dripping wet, John slightly winded from doing his laps, and figured they'd dry quickly in the heat.

"We'll head back to the motel, get cleaned up for lunch and get Aaron his nap soon," John said. "Later we can go to the carousel for a few rides. Aaron loves the carousel. Did he have any water?"

"Yeah, I gave him his bottle and he had some."

"Good. Looks like someone has been busy! Huh, little guy? Look at this. See? This is a stone. Here, feel that. It's hard, isn't it?" Aaron slowly grasped the stone from John and studied it before banging it, too, on the bucket.

"We didn't quiet get to make our sand castle. All Aaron wanted to do was dump the sand out of the bucket. So that's what we did. It's all good," Taylor said.

"Just as well, since he'd have just knocked it over before you got it built anyway. My destruct-o son," smirked John with a loving grin.

"We should probably get packed up to head back to the motel," Joss said. "Aaron needs a bottle and a change, and we've all got to wash the salt off."

"I'll order lunch, babe," John said. "What are we in the mood for?"

"Chinese? There was a place we passed by on the road that does take out. We could find out what they offer online," Taylor said. Joss nodded in agreement.

"Okay," John agreed. "Chinese it is. A bit of sweet and sour chicken does sound nice right about now, since you mention it. Let's move. Later, we'll get you boys on the wooden horses."

##

As dusk fell, the air around the Montauk Beach had cooled down to a comfortable breeze over the water. It was a beautiful early evening for a walk or any other kind of outdoor evening activity, and while Joss had put on a light jacket on Aaron, the rest of the family walked in shorts, flip flops and tee shirts after changing out of their beach gear. Taylor took the liberty of getting himself a cotton candy, which Aaron was fascinated by, and when he realized, by following Taylor's movements with it, that it was edible, he was beside himself with wanting.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Ma, is it okay for him to have a little? He's just gonna cry louder. Man, Aaron, you are so spoiled. Nobody can eat in peace around you. Like Ma and Pop don't feed you enough," he said, laughing.

"He's just greedy, like his daddy, that's all. Thinks all the food in the world has to be for him. I'm glad he likes his food. But I don't know if I want him to start up on all that sugary stuff. You had banana pudding yesterday, little man. That's enough."

But Aaron would not be denied. He got fussy in his stroller, craning his body against the confines of the buggy, and kicked up a tantrum until his mother relented and let him have a little of the cotton candy. He got two more tiny helpings each time he cried for more, and then his mother put a stop to it. He fussed until he realized she wasn't budging, and then finally became occupied by something else.

The little family walked on as the fun fair bustled with activity. There were game booths, a DJ spinning tunes, go cart racers, kiddie rides, even a wooden roller coaster. Everything was lit up with neon, and the sounds of the carnival abounded.

Finally, they reached the carousel. Taylor and Aaron would have a ride on one of the horses together, with Taylor holding Aaron in his lap. After they paid the admission fare, Taylor mounted one of the wooden horses, painted in the old fashioned style, and set to rise up and down as it went around the track. Joss got Aaron out of his stroller and handed him to Taylor.

"You got him good, baby?"

"Yeah, Ma. We're good. This is gonna be fun, Aaron! Remember the last time you were on the carousel? It was a new thing, then, but now you're an old pro."

"Okay, guys. I think the conductor is going to get started up soon. Make sure you hold him down still, T," John said.

"I got him, Pop. No worries. Right, Aaron?"

Aaron merely scanned his surroundings in response, and then began to bang his hands against the pole attached to the seat. Taylor had an extra good grip on him.

Soon, the ride slowly started up, and the carousel began its rotations. The horses went up and down and around, the vibrant colors and happy children riding it creating a most enchanting and wholesome scene. John and Joss both waved each time Aaron and Taylor passed them, and on the next go round, John took out his phone and snapped a few photos of the boys to add to the multitude of pix he already had stored in various locations on his phone and on his laptop at the apartment.

Joss suddenly remembered the last time she and her children had been near a carousel. It was only a few months before then, at Central Park, when she had taken him on with her as Taylor watched. He was about four months old at the time, and was completely in awe of all the gears and the spinning around they did. He never cried or complained. He was just curious about the whole experience. It was one of those memories of him she would always cherish, much like Taylor's first steps or his first bike ride without the training wheels.

Her boys. John. They were her world now. She was theirs, for as long as they needed her. That was her job, her vocation. To be their mom. To be John's partner, lover, and friend; his harbor from the storm. She knew that now more than ever. It was up to her to love and cherish and protect her boys, just as John had done. She understood him in that way. He did what he thought was best for their children, and other children, for everyone in New York that had children. Keeping Elias and his rivals in check. Working the numbers. Looking at her boys, so happy on the whirling horse, she couldn't have asked for more, couldn't be happier. To see them healthy and happy, enjoying one another and this time together, it was everything.

All of a sudden, the lurching pain rose in her stomach again, harder this time than before, more intensely. She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it, but pain was a demanding, stubborn foe, and her feet slowly shuffled in response beads of sweat forming on her brow. John, who was watching to make sure that Taylor and Aaron remained okay, didn't notice anything amiss, until he saw her wipe the sweat from her brow, a fleeting expression of dread crossing her face.

"Joss?"

"Hmm?"

"What's up?"

"What? Nothing. I'm fine. Just...just a little warm."

"Warm? It's like a freezer in here. Good thing Aaron has his little jacket on. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Um hmm...I'm just...fine...the boys...are having a good time. Look at them."

John slowly took his attention off of her to do as she asked, but a collision course of fate converged at the very moment when Taylor and Aaron rounded the carousel track and John caught the wide-eyed look of panic on Taylor's face. His body was jolted into action, as if he'd been startled by a loud noise, but he couldn't get off the moving horse with Aaron on his lap safely, so he held firm. John's instincts kicked in then, and when he abruptly turned to his side to see what it was that had alarmed Taylor so much, he had just enough time to catch Joss before she crumpled to the ground.

"Joss? Joss? Hey! Hey, what's wrong? Joss! Talk to me, Joss! Sweetie, what's the matter?"

She had fallen, but was still semi-conscious. John lowered the two of them further to the ground. By that point, other fair goers had come to notice that a woman had fainted or something, and they began to cautiously mill around to see what was happening. Someone came to offer assistance, which John steadfastly, yet politely, refused. The ride was stopped, and Taylor rushed over with Aaron.

"No..." she murmured. "No, no, no..."

"Baby, I'm here," John said, cradling her and stroking her hair, while waging an inner war within himself not to panic for her sake. "It's okay, honey. I'm here. You're going to be fine, all right?"

"No, no, no...no, my baby..." she continued to moan, tears now in her eyes, her hand slowly finding her tummy.

John, listening but not understanding, looked towards Taylor and Aaron, himself clutched tightly to his brother's side.

"Joss, the kids are fine. They're right here. Don't worry. Just...just try to relax and we'll get you to the hospital. It's gonna be okay."

At that point, Joss became agitated, the tears spilling to and fro, her head shaking erratically.

"No, John... I don't need...I need my baby...my baby...she's so tiny...hasn't had a chance yet...please, God..."

" She? Joss, I don't understand. Aaron is right here. A boy. _He_ is fine. He's-"

"Aaron," she said with a weak smile. "Aaron...Taylor...big brothers...perfect big brothers...they'll be wonderful...so good to her..."

John, stunned by what he thought he was hearing, looked away from Joss and upwards towards Taylor. When he saw the expression on the boy's face, he knew. Of course.

"Oh, Joss...oh, God Joss..." he said, a tidal wave of emotions blasting within him all at once as he looked down at her again and kissed her forehead. He remained there as he spoke to Taylor. "Is this true?"

Taylor hesitated before speaking. John sought to reassure him. "It's all right, son. You can say."

"Yeah, Pop. Ma's...gonna have another baby. I wanted her to tell you herself, but...she was waiting for the right time, I guess. Is...that why she fainted, you think?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything, Taylor," he said quietly.

But as the news washed over him, as he had a moment to process what he'd just heard, the soldier inside kicked into overdrive. John Reese was a man of action, a man for getting things done—and at that instance, he had to be that man of action. Joss, and their unborn child, were both in danger. And he wasn't about to lose either one of them.

He motioned to Taylor to go and find the fairground paramedics. Taylor did as he was instructed, taking Aaron with him in the stroller.

Returning to the matter at hand, John reached into his pocket with his free hand, he pulled out his burner phone and made a call.

"Mr. Reese? I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. How is the family outing going?" Finch's voice said.

"Not good. Listen, Finch, I need your help. Do we still have Dr. Tillman, the OB/GYN, on call like we did when Aaron was born?"

"Yes, Mr. Reese. Why?"

"Because she needs to get out here to Montauk now, Harold."

"Why, what for, John? Has something happened to Aaron?"

"No, not Aaron. Aaron's fine. It's Joss, Harold. She's...she's pregnant again. But she's in trouble, and so might the baby be. Can you get her here?"

"Oh, dear...why, yes, of course, Mr. Reese. But in the meantime, Detective Carter needs to get to the hospital, if only to be diagnosed, and to make sure she gets immediate treatment. Montauk is a considerable distance from Manhattan. I would think that time is of the essence here."

"I got Taylor on that, hunting down the park ambulance. But I don't need to tell you that she can't stay in a general hospital for very long. We need to do this as we did it before, or questions might be asked that she shouldn't have to answer.

"Exactly, Mr. Reese. Say no more. I will dispatch Dr. Tillman right away. Give my love to the Detective."

"Will do, Finch. Thanks."

As John got off with Finch, the whirr and whine of an ambulance siren approached. Joss was startled at first by the ambulance, but John continued to comfort and reassure her that everything would be okay.

"Aaron...where is...my boy..?"

"Shhh, baby, don't talk, okay? Aaron's fine. He's with Taylor. They went to get help. It's all right, sweetheart. I love you. I love you so much."

He kissed her forehead again as the paramedics disembarked from the ambulance to load Joss up in the vehicle. John gave them all relevant details about her condition, as well as other information needed, and as they spoke to Joss herself, John learned more details surrounding the pregnancy that everyone in the family seemed to know about but him. The main bit of information he learned was that she was just about eight weeks along. She had conceived weeks ago—but hadn't said anything.

He thought back to the first night of the week, when they had finished making love and he'd joked about having put another baby in her belly. They had begun arguing then, him none the wiser that he'd already done that. Why hadn't she told him? Why?

He shook his head. There would be time for questions later. At that moment, the only important thing was Joss and the baby, making sure they were okay. And he also had Aaron to consider.

"Taylor, your mom's going to need someone to go in the ambulance with her. Will you do that? I'll take Aaron, get him settled, and we'll meet you over there, okay?"

"Yeah, Pop, sure. Anything for Ma."

"Okay. Thank you, son. We're gonna be okay, Taylor. We'll get through this. And then, we're gonna have another baby," he said with a slow, dawning smile.

"Yeah, Pop. Pretty crazy. I was an only child for the longest. Now?"

They both laughed a little extra hard at the thought, perhaps as a means to bite back the terror they both felt at this change in course.

John took Aaron from his brother and patted Taylor on the back. Taylor then went over to hop into the back of the ambulance, while John got the hospital information and directions for following along. Aaron cooed and squealed, taken by the blinking lights of the siren. His baby ignorance was indeed bliss.

"Come on, son. We have to go see that Mommy is okay—and that your baby brother or sister makes it. Please, God. Please let the baby make it through this."

At his own words, John's eyes filled with tears. She had to be okay. _They_ had to be okay. They just had to.

He held close to his little boy as the ambulance sped down the road, and the onlookers finally began to disperse.

 **A/N: Okay! High drama at Montauk Beach. So, now John knows, but it's a shame that it took near-tragedy for him to find out. Joss and the baby will be fine (mostly a case of over exertion in the summertime, coupled with first weeks' yucky feelings), but the repercussions of this incident will play on John's mind, and ultimately influence his future as a vigilante. So, more is to come from this. Yes, I think I might give Aaron and Taylor a sister this time, but I'm not sure. Something kind of cool about having three rambling boys in the house as well. And I could see John Reese being a dad to three sons, too. Ah, time for those decisions.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I want to say I appreciate all of you who take the time to click on and read and comment (or just read and no comment). In this age of Shaw and Root, it's nice to know that the Carter and Reese peeps are still alive and at the FF game. Cheers.**

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	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Joss is on her way to the hospital for tests and observation, while John follows with Aaron. I figured I'd use Dr. Tillman as the OB/GYN, since it's a nice throwback to the show. Corinne will be on the scene soon as well, so that will be helpful for the kids while John stays with Joss and figures out what's next.**

 **Important conversations take place as we go, perhaps the odd flashback or two, but John and Joss remain committed to one another and their children throughout. Shaw and Lionel might even make an appearance.**

 **This story is on track for a finish, but as I said before, a sequel of sorts might be in the offing. I'll see how the summer goes.**

 **As for the two other stories I still have outstanding, they are not forgotten. I just get off on tangents sometimes, and I am so enjoying writing this one, what with our baby boy Aaron, that I have back burnered Missing and Tension, but make no mistake—both Jenni and Simmons get what's due them, hahaha.**

 **Thank you all so much for the positive feedback over the last chapters here. I had no idea so many were tuned into the madness. You rock!**

 **On with the show.**

"Hi, Mr. Carter? Sir?"

"Pop," Taylor said. "The doctor's here," not missing a beat, even with the irony of the situation.

John almost didn't hear the voice of the young emergency resident address him as "Mr. Carter," until she gently touched his shoulder and shook him out of his reverie in the waiting room. Aaron was finally, blissfully asleep in his arms; the poor little tyke was completely out of his element, and his behavior reflected that greatly.

At first, he was hellbent on tearing up the magazines on the waiting room table that he could reach once his father took him out of his stroller to let him have a little free reign. He then became restless and screamy once John put him back in his stroller, after deciding that 'free reign' for his very active son was a bad idea; finally, he just went into full on crabby mode as he and his brother waited for no news about Mommy. He didn't want to be held while in a hospital waiting room, and couldn't be put down for long lest he wreck the place, but if John even thought to get up to go to the desk for any reason, or go to the men's room without him, he didn't want that either. Even Taylor, normally very good with Aaron, couldn't turn the tide.

John did battle with his little boy's moods as best he could: taking him for walks outside down the block and then down the hall, trying to distract him with toys and his Swiss Army watch—which the boy nearly broke by trying to eat it—snacks, anything to keep him somewhat calm and content for the duration. Out of his normal routine, that proved nearly impossible as he wailed, wiggled, and even hit his father in the face a few times while in the throws of a tantrum. Taylor offered to give John a break, but he refused, telling him to keep an ear out for news, and to come get him as soon he heard anything, if at all. He would keep Aaron together, even as his own nerves were set on edge between his son's antics and the dread from waiting on the worst.

"Mr. Carter? Hi, I'm Dr. Wilson, the emergency room attending."

"Umm..oh, yes! Yes, that's me...Mr. Carter here. How is she?" he whispered, wanting to not wake up his sleeping son. For discretion's sake, he'd go along with the "Mr. Carter" ruse; but the irony, even then, was not lost on him. Joss had been conscious when they brought her in, so any and all pertinent information about insurance and permission to treat was still in her hands. John hadn't needed to act as her next of kin, which was a fortunate circumstance.

"She's stable and resting comfortably now, but we want to keep her overnight, for observation. She came in with slightly elevated blood pressure, dehydration, and severe abdominal cramping, which is a concern, but more tests will be run tomorrow on the bloodwork we did just to make sure all is where it should be. For the most part, though, she's doing fine at the moment."

"Dehydration...yes. We were at the beach here earlier this morning. The heat couldn't have helped," he said, thinking back to the wonderful day they'd had up to that point.

"We've got her on a course of IV fluids, so that should improve things quite a bit for her."

"And...the baby? How's the baby?" John steeled himself as much as he could for the possibility that Dr. Wilson might tell him something that would, in the end analysis, break his heart. He told himself that he'd faced tragedy and horrors before, had suffered grave loss of comrades, partners, even lovers. If he had to hear the unhearable, he would.

But then, none of those people were his unborn son or daughter. None of those people were a living extension of himself and Joss, and their love for one another. He had only just learned that they were expecting again, so soon after having had Aaron, and had not yet even had time to get used to the fact that he and his beautiful, courageous lady were the potential parents of three children, not two. And now, he had to face the likelihood that such a wonderful, blessed thing might not actually happen after all.

There was no steeling himself against that kind of hell.

The blood ran hot and cold through his veins. The possibility was there. He knew that very well. She was so early in the pregnancy, and the way she looked, so weak and drawn, so pained, when he held her on the ground …

"Well, with the abdominal distress and her advancing age, she could have been in the early stages of a miscarriage, but there has been no spotting or bleeding at this point, and that's certainly a positive sign. Mrs. Carter is a strong woman, and so far all signs show that the embryo she's carrying looks like its here for the duration. Mom is fine, and the baby's fine, Mr. Carter. But from what we can see just now, it may be a case of Mrs. Carter needing to be put on bed rest for at least the next few months, just to make sure that her pregnancy is a healthy and happy one. Oh, I see you already have a little one here," she said, Aaron now capturing her attention with his sighing in sleep.

"Yes. Our son, Aaron. He's nearly a year old. Our little handful." John chuckled, almost as much from relief as genuine humor. Joss and the baby were going to be okay.

"Well, you're going to have another handful to add to the mix, come seven or so months from now. Congratulations, Mr. Carter."

John nodded thoughtfully. "You're sure about that, Dr. Wilson? I mean, it is somewhat a bit early to tell, isn't it? I mean, Joss could still...lose our baby, couldn't she, I mean, if we aren't careful about taking things slowly?"

Dr. Wilson sighed upon answering, and shook her head in understanding. "Of course, there is always risk, Mr. Carter, but as far as we have been able to ascertain, your wife will be fine, and fully capable of carrying your child to full term—provided she doesn't overdo it. But with this sweet little fella here, that could be a tall order. She'll need as much support as she can get. We'll know more when her lab results come back, and then her primary physician as well as her GYN will be able to discuss best courses of action with both of you."

"Oh, right, right. Yes, thank you, Dr. Wilson. Thank you very much. Listen, can we...can we see her now? This is our other son, Taylor," he said. A rush of relief washed over his entire body, while he gestured towards the young man, so as not to leave him out of the happy news.

"Yes, she has been admitted to the upper wing, and we have late visiting hours here. But she'll be very groggy, so if she doesn't speak coherently, just be aware of that. She was still awake when last looked in on. Take the elevator down the hall to your left up to the seventh floor. She's in room 703."

"Thank you, Dr. Wilson, thank you again very much. Come on, guys. Let's go see Mommy."

##

Upon reaching room 703, John saw that it was a private suite on a general patient floor, which was good, as it would allow her the rest she needed without the bother of a roommate. Low level lamplight illuminated the room, while the overhead television set played the latest popular sitcom at low volume. In the adjustable patient bed lay Joss, an IV drip attached to her arm, while monitors and computers gave read outs on her vitals. She looked so peaceful in her slumber, to the point where John wondered it wouldn't have been better to leave her in peace and return the next day, once tests were run and she had had a good night's sleep.

Taylor, however, had other ideas. He eagerly walked over to his mother and kissed her forehead, while trying not to disturb her too much. When he pulled back, she stirred, opened her eyes, and smiled weakly, lifting her hand to take his.

"Taylor," she whispered. "My baby boy. Hey...you know, I was just dreaming about you..."

"You were?" he asked, with a shy smile. "A good dream, I hope."

"Oh, yes. You were so handsome and tall. Just like you are now. And your little sister was there. And Aaron. All of my babies together...in my...dream...all of my babies..."

"Ma, it's okay. You don't have to talk a lot right now. Just try to rest, okay?"

"I'm fine, baby...whatever they gave me knocked me for a loop, though. It's nice and cool in this room...I think I was too hot before, when I fell...so this is nice..."

"We're just glad you're okay, Ma. Thank God."

"Yes. Thank God...where...where is your brother...and John? Where is John?" she asked, trying to lift a heavy head from her pillows.

"We're right here, sweetheart," John answered with a smile, coming closer with a still sleeping Aaron. "Hey, you. How are you feeling?"

"Mmmm, like a truck hit me on one end, and then came back for the other...but other than that, I'm fine, I guess. There's my little man, safe and sound...sleeping like a little angel. Bring him here, John. Has Aaron been a good boy for his daddy?"

John laughed quietly. "More or less. Him sleeping has had a lot to do with that though." And then, his expression serious once more, "I'm just glad you're all right, Joss. You don't know how glad I am for that."

She closed her eyes again, slowly, and kept them closed, to the point where John thought she'd gone back to sleep. Instead, tears began to fall down the sides of her face. "I'm sorry, John."

"Sorry? About what, sweetie?" he said softly, walking towards her closer, and laying Aaron down next to her breast. He wiggled around a little bit, but as his body knew his mother's so well, even in sleep, he settled down not long afterwards.

"Sorry that I didn't tell you about the baby. Taylor...he wanted me to tell you...but I didn't. You deserved to know when I did. I'm sorry...so sorry..."

John let go of a sigh and sat down in one of the chairs across from the bed. He dug his wallet and handed Taylor two twenty dollar bills. "Taylor, do you know remember where the cafe is on the main floor?"

"Yeah, Pop," he said.

"Could you run down there and grab a coffee for me? You know how I take it, right?"

"Yeah, Pop. Two sugars."

"That's it. And get yourself whatever you like. Grab a burger or something. It's been a while since you had a meal."

"Yeah, I could eat, I guess. Sure thing, Pop. Be back soon."

"Thanks, son. Keep the change."

As Taylor departed for the elevators, John slowly pulled the chair closer to Joss' bed. He leaned over and kissed her lips, lingering for just a second or two before pulling back and stroking her now loosened hair. There were tears in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall.

"Why _didn't_ you tell me, Joss?"

She licked her lips before speaking. "Could I have...some water, John?"

John got up to pour her a cup of water from the pitcher near the bed. Putting the straw to her lips, he held it steady while took sips until it was gone. "Thank you," she said.

"You haven't answered my question, Joss. Why didn't you tell me we were going to have another baby?" His question wasn't accusatory, nor was his tone. He just wanted to know why. What had he done to make her feel as if she couldn't tell him?

And then, it hit him. The most obvious answer, but not one that she would ever voice to him in literal language, in all the times they argued about his work life versus his family life.

She had felt alone. She was essentially living as a full-time single parent with a part-time male partner, as she'd done for years in raising Taylor with no partner. She would voice her feelings about him being safer off the streets, which would in turn provide some measure of stability for her boys in having a father figure, and she would say that the kids needed him more than just for the week he took off to be with them. And yes, she would occasionally even say that _she_ needed him, simply to be there, just to hold her at night when it got cold and rainy, and the winds blew loud and fierce outside.

But she never fully came right out and said just how alone she felt without him there. Never that. If such words were even on the tip of her tongue at every turn, she never uttered them. Perhaps she thought she didn't have to. Perhaps she thought she had no choice. After all, she was Detective Jocelyn Carter, decorated police officer with the NYPD, the officer who had almost single handedly gotten the goods and brought down HR.

It was the blow up over lunch at her mother's house, and later, the conversation with Taylor on the basketball court that really brought home just burdensome he had made her life over the past year. Aaron was a miracle, and the light of both their lives. But he was a baby, a growing baby, who would soon be a toddler, then a preschooler, and on and on until he was an adult. That development needed lots of love and attention from both parents to be successful. When he was born, John had been able to be there more often; in fact, the first two months of Aaron's life he was there most of the time, on a sort of makeshift paternity leave he'd brokered between Finch, Shaw and Lionel. But that required some payback. When Aaron hit the three-month mark, John hardly ever saw his son, the demands of the numbers allowing him just one weekend that whole month home with his new baby. Later, they were able to work it up to one week of the month. That was better—but still not ideal.

But she understood John. She knew that he had to do what he did out there. It was how he was wired, what he was good at. It was part of what made her love him so. And so she did what she could to have it both ways. However, that was before she found out she was five weeks pregnant. It was a completely different ballgame now, and new rules would have to be put in play.

"I'm sorry," she said again as the tears continued to fall. "You deserved to know...you deserved to know...I guess...maybe I wanted to make sure I could do it again, you know? I'm not exactly 22 anymore and I just had Aaron back in November. Wasn't thinking that I could even get pregnant anymore...and..."

"And what, baby? And what?" he gently pressed. What else could there have been?

"And...well..I didn't want to pressure you, John."

"Pressure me, Joss? How would you be pressuring me?"

"I didn't want you to have to make a choice between saving people and your family. I know how much the numbers are in your blood."

Despite himself, despite understanding where she'd been coming from, he could feel the pings of irritation strike in his heart. He masked them with sarcasm. "Well, you know, Joss, I think I would have noticed something eventually, when you began to show, don't you think? I mean, unless you started eating everything this side of the Hudson River, you wouldn't have been able to explain away your rapid belly gain any other way, now would you?"

"John..."

"'Make a choice', Joss? Baby, there is no 'choice!' You are the world to me. You and Aaron, and Taylor, and this new life growing inside you, a life we created together— _that_ is my choice. I love you so much it hurts, sweetheart. How could you think I would trade you and our family off for the numbers? Have I been gone a lot? Yes, I have, yes. But I've never missed our weeks. Not one. There have been times when it's not been easy to let it go, when the numbers came fast and furious, people in trouble all over the city. But I live for these weeks. I never let my job get in the way of my coming home to you and the kids during that special time. And I wouldn't let it get in the way of being a father to this baby we're having now."

He ran a hand through his hair before crossing his fingers and leaning his elbows on the bedside. Aaron stirred and whimpered, but as Joss rubbed his belly, he settled down again, and remained sleeping by her side. An uncomfortable, tense silence hung between them for several seconds.

"I get it. You're angry with me. It's okay," she said, sniffling and wiping tears from her face. She looked down at her lap, at Aaron, anywhere but at the man she loved. She didn't want to fight. She was too tired, too drained to fight him then. It was a conversation that was coming—but for another day.

John let go of a heavy sigh, the tension and exhaustion in his face clear. "No, Joss, I'm not angry with you. I get it, I do, but—still it's not easy to take, you know?"

"I know. We have a lot to talk about, John. A lot to plan for. Aaron and this child I'm carrying will be quite the responsibility. But...one I am looking forward to taking on...even though it scares me a little bit."

"Don't be scared, honey. We're in this together. You, me, Taylor, Aaron, and our new little one. We got this. I promise you."

He leaned over and kissed her soundly on her forehead. Joss closed her eyes to receive his kiss and reached over to catch his hand tightly in hers. A second later, Aaron's head turned, and then popped up into consciousness, and when he saw his mother there, he at first whimpered and hiccuped, his sleepy eyes a beautiful sight for Joss to behold.

"Hey, baby...you awake? How did Mommy's little boy sleep?"

Aaron scooted up on his knees and climbed his mother's thighs to reach her. He continued to whimper, but was calmed once she held him in her arms.

"Yes...yes...baby..I love you too...my sweet angel...thank you for being so good for Daddy and Taylor."

Aaron reached out to John as well. He took that as a cue to get up and find himself a corner's worth of space in Joss' bed, which she moved over, as best she could, to provide him. Once settled in, he cuddled with them both, nuzzling Joss' neck while tickling Aaron to make him giggle. And as usual, it did the trick.

"John...I think he needs a change...this diaper...he's soaked..."

"Oh, hell," John groaned. "I did change him in the car once we got here, but I suppose that was a goodly while ago. There might be one diaper left in the bag. I least I hope there is. I can't remember."

Joss laughed softly, the groggies still having their effect. "I'll do it, if you want."

"No, no, no. You're the patient. I'll see to it. You rest and relax. Besides, he's been wet for the last while, a few more minutes won't hurt him. Huh, little guy? You're gonna send your daddy into the poor house with all the diapers you go through. But I guess I better get used to that, hmm?"

At that moment, Taylor returned from the cafe, loaded with tray and bags of food. Setting it down, he handed John his coffee, which he now had to get up to take, so as not to spill and cause a mess. Plus, Aaron would never let him drink it in peace, anyway. Taylor replaced John in the bed next to his mom.

"Taylor, thank you for helping with your brother. I'm sorry about all this, baby," Joss said.

Taylor quietly shook his head. "It's all right, Ma. Things happen. I'm just glad you and the baby are okay—and that John knows now. We can move forward together, as a real family. Right, Pop?"

John, now standing in the corner, sipping his coffee, raised his eyebrows in contemplation. "You're absolutely right, T. We've got a lot of preparations to make. We've got a baby on the way."

At his own words, he began to laugh. And that laugh was infectious. Even Aaron joined in as his mother held him close to keep him from crawling off the edge of the bed. It was a good sound, pure and natural, a sound born of struggle, but also much love and faith. It was a sound of family—a real family.

##

Outside the hospital's sliding doors, in the mugginess of a Long Island summer night, John made the call.

"Finch?"

"Mr. Reese. I have been eager for news. How is Detective Carter doing?"

"She's fine, Finch."

"And the unborn child?"

"She—or he—is fine, too at the moment. Still too soon to tell."

"Oh, that's wonderful news, John. Congratulations, by the way. But I suspect you're not calling just to update me on the progress of the good detective."

"No, Finch, I'm not," John said, a heavy tone in his voice.

"Very well, John."

"Listen, Finch. I'm going to need Shaw and Lionel to keep holding things down at HQ. I won't be back in the field tomorrow."

"Of course, Mr. Reese. Perfectly understood."

In fact," John began with a pause, "I don't think I'll be back in the field at all anymore. Joss and the kids need me more than New York City does. Better still, I need them. I hope you can understand that somehow, Finch."

Now it was Harold's turn to pause over the line. But not for long. "Most assuredly, Mr. Reese. You're a parent now. You have a very young family you must take care of, that needs you. Frankly, I'm surprised it took you this long to realize that."

"I've always realized that, Harold. It's just that maybe I needed more of a kick in the pants to get me to actually make that realization a reality. Tonight was that kick in the pants. I'm sorry, Harold."

"No need, Mr. Reese. Just remember, though, that we are your family as well—and we're here for you, always. That includes The Machine, too, in a manner of speaking."

John chuckled. "That I can believe. But does that include Shaw?"

"I suppose you'd have to take that up with Ms. Shaw."

"I suppose I would. Thank you, Harold. For giving me a job, a purpose. For everything."

"Well, now you have a new purpose—one that is just as noble and rewarding as the other one. I must say I envy that a little, John."

"Never say never, Finch," John said with a smile.

"Give my love to the Detective and the children, John."

"Will do. I'll be seeing you, Harold."

"You most certainly will. Good-bye, John."

At the culmination of the phone call, John pocketed his phone and looked up at the dark and cloudy sky. The heavens seemed as if they would crack open and storm at any moment, but through all of that, John was still able to see two tiny stars lighting the little corner where they stood, alone, beacons within midst of darkness. He smiled and thought of his children. And he knew then that in that moment, the man he had been all those years, all those lonely, lean, savage years, was now gone. Joss was the one carrying their child in her womb, to be sure—but it was John Reese who had been reborn that night.

 **A/N: So, there we have it! John's given up the numbers to be more involved in his family's life. He and Joss still have much to iron out, but that was the biggest sacrifice he could have made for her and the kids, considering how important the numbers are to him. That itch to be a superhero won't leave him, of course, but he is taking on his responsibility like a man. We knew he would, but yes, sometimes stubborn men need a kick in the pants.**

 **The story will continue for a little longer, but I will need to get back to the other two I have left hanging on the branches (as requested). Time remains short, so I do my best, haha. Thank you all once again for the indulgence—oh, and Happy Memorial Day weekend for those who celebrate. Summertime, yay!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hello, everyone. This is Chapter 17, which gets us close to the end of the formal story as I meant it to go. I almost wish it didn't have to come to a close as I have so enjoyed pulling together these two people in creating a family; but then, this was only supposed to be a week-in-the-life of the Carter-Reese household, and since the trip to Montauk was their outing before John went back into the field, I can end it from there on a happy note. Joss is pregnant with her and John's second child, John now knows that she's pregnant, he's given up the numbers, and Aaron is a healthy and thriving near-nine-month-old boy with a good appetite, poopy diapers, and his own wonderful personality. Additionally, Taylor is all good with the goings-on, and Grandma Corinne is down for baby duty whenever she has to be.**

 **Thank you, thank you for riding along on this fun journey with the Careese family, and I hope I have helped a little bit with the glumness that I know many Careese fans still feel about the direction of POI over the last two seasons, the diminishing of Jim Caviezel's character in that time, and of course, the death of Carter—a move that still sucks (and that helped, I believe, get the show canceled). I know how you feel, trust me.**

 **But we still have fanfiction, and can keep these wonderful characters alive through our amazing imaginations. Reading as well as writing has been such a joy over the last months.**

 **Happy summer, everyone, and stay tuned!**

"John? Baby, Aaron's asleep again. Since I'm here all night, maybe you should get him and Taylor back to the motel now. Yeah, you go on ahead and get the kids to bed. It's been a long day for both of them. And you, too. Go on. Go get some rest."

Sure enough, Aaron had tucked himself into his mother's side and drifted off once again, the rise and fall of his little chest, as well as the occasional yawn, clearly visible. He wasn't quite at the point in his development where he would automatically fall asleep like that, of course, but sometimes, when he didn't fight his tiredness, he'd let it take him as it would. The room was cool and quiet, and he was beside one of his favorite people in all the world. The conditions for slumber couldn't have been better.

"Yeah, Ma. I am kind of tired," Taylor said softly, rubbing his eyes. "But I don't want to leave you alone. You've been so weak."

Joss smiled and squeezed his hands. "It's okay, Taylor. The doctors and nurses will take good care of me until tomorrow. But I don't want my babies to not get a good night's sleep in their beds. Besides, we paid for those rooms, we need to use them."

"Your mom's right, son," John said. "But, before that happens...I have something I need to tell you both."

"Oh?" Joss' eyes widened slightly, and she and Taylor both looked at each other before looking back at John again.

"Yeah," he said, slowly standing up. "Listen, uh, I made a call when I went down to the lobby a little while ago. It was to Finch."

Joss straightened up in bed slightly, careful not to wake Aaron. "I see. What was the call about, John? You need another week? I hope he wasn't stingy about that, given that we need to get back to Brooklyn from here and all-"

John put up a hand to stop her flow midway. "No, no, Joss. I didn't call about an extra week."

"Okay, John. So not an extra week. What did you call Finch for?"

John ran a hand through his hair, which ended with him rubbing the back of his neck and grimacing from the tightness he found there. It had been a long day.

"Well, Joss, Taylor... I'm afraid you're going to get sick of me after a while. Harold, Shaw, and I aren't going to be seeing much of one another anymore."

"Okay," Joss said again, giving him a slight side eye. "What exactly are you saying, John? I mean, I think I know what you're saying, but I want to hear it from you."

"All right, I'll be exact if you like. I quit my job, honey. No...uh...no more numbers."

The ears on the side of her head had to have belonged to someone else. She couldn't have heard right. Had she? Did John actually say he had quit the numbers? Yes, he had. But then why did her heart sink past her knees at that particular moment, a moment she had been waiting on for what seemed an eternity?

"John...no..."

"No? What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean...I don't want you to do this, just because of what happened tonight."

"Joss, baby, you've only been at me for months to give up the numbers and spend more time helping out around the house and with Aaron. Now that I am, you don't want me to? I'm at a bit of a loss here, sweetheart."

"No, John, I do, I do want you with us. I do! You know I do! I just...I want it to be because you want it. Because you want to be with me and the kids, not just because you were scared or feel obligated. This...has to be something you're in for the long haul. And what about your income?"

John grinned. She was merely confirming the revelation he'd had earlier about her not telling him about the child they had on the way.

"Joss, my income is fine. I'm solvent enough to go several years without working a job, and then some. Besides, Finch is still in our corner—and we both agree that my "job" is to take care of you and our babies. All three of them," he said, winking at Taylor and moving in closer to Joss to stroke her hair.

"So...you mean it? This is really where you want to be, John? Really?" Her eyes widened slightly, and filled with tears.

John closed his own eyes slowly as a slow smile spread across his lips. He continued to stroke her hair while nodding his head. Upon opening his eyes he said, "yes, sweetheart. Of course. This is really where I want to be. This is home. You and these kids are home. It's time I spent more time _at_ home."

The tears she held onto finally fell, and it was as if the weight of all the world suddenly vanished. John could see the tension lift from her shoulders, could see her let go of it all, and because of that, she sank lower into the bed, her arms outstretched to him, an offering of love and trust so genuine, it shook them both.

"Then let's make it happen, John. Let's give our family the best of all. I love you, baby. I love you with all my heart," she gasped with laughter in between her tears.

"That makes two of us. God, you are everything, Jocelyn. Absolutely everything." He absorbed her love into himself, her radiance touching his soul. They were a unit, they were a team, as they'd always been. But even better than that, they were family—even if one part of that family groaned in mock derision from the sidelines.

"Aw, man, why y'all gotta do all that mushy stuff now? Can't this wait till we get home? Geez."

John slowly lifted his head, made a face at Taylor, and then extended his arm toward the boy.

"Come here, kid. I'll remember how you don't like 'mushy' so much next time I'm figuring out your allowance."

Taylor laughed while joining in with the group hug, as his little brother happily snoozed—and dream-smiled—the night away.

##

"Mom, you didn't have to come all the way out here. I'm fine. Just a little heat stroke, is all. I'm okay."

"Just a little heatstroke, my foot, Jocelyn Carter," her mother said, while shaking her finger at her daughter, now sitting up in her hospital bed, awaiting her breakfast tray. It was the next morning after her admittance to the facility for precautionary measures, and as soon as Corinne could, she raced out to Montauk to see about her and the grandchildren. She knew something like this could happen, that it could have been much worse, and she wasn't about to let her only child and love of her life get off so easily for cutting it so close.

"You've been overdoing it for months. And it caught up with you. I'm just glad you finally got through to that superman of yours—though, unfortunately, at the risk of your unborn child. You were lucky he was there _that_ time, Jocelyn. But it could have all turned out so badly otherwise, had he been out running around after lowlifes in Queens."

"Yes, I know, Mom, but it didn't, so it's all good. Besides, I thought you liked John," Joss sniffed while elevating her feet with the remote control in the hospital bed.

"I do like John. Considering what you were married to before, he's heaven on earth. But it's no good that in order to get him to do what he's supposed to do by his family, he needs this kind of a kick in the butt first."

"Well, I didn't exactly tell him beforehand, did I?" She sighed gravely, remembering how he took the news of her third pregnancy. No, he hadn't been angry exactly, not at all. It was something else he expressed: disappointment. Disappointment in her inability to trust him to do the right thing on his own. And of course, everything was fine at that point: he'd called Finch and told him he was quitting the numbers right away—but she could still detect that disappointed feeling in him. He wouldn't say it like that for fear of hurting her, if he even recognized the feeling to speak to it. But it was there. And how could she blame him for that?

"I didn't want him to make that kind of choice, Mom. Just not to be obligated to us because that's what he's supposed to do, when I know he still feels the pulls of duty, of the streets, you know? I wanted him to do it on his own, come to his own senses. However, fate had other plans. But actually," she said, with a clutch of her mother's hand, "I may have underestimated him in that way, Mom. What kind of loving partner does that?"

"The kind who has been burned before and has been doing this life of child rearing on her own for long enough to think she can do it all, if she has to, the same way. But baby, if you don't have to, why would you? Now I may have my little peeves about the way you two have done this set up, but I know that through it all John loves you and the children deeply, obligation or not. Oh, I don't knock him for being dedicated to his job. He's a good man who's willing to go out on all limbs to save people he doesn't even know, without taking a break, save for the week he has with you. There are a lot of people who are in jobs where they're supposed to be that devoted, and they aren't. A check and a lot of paperwork. That's what they're all about."

"Gee, thanks, Mom." Joss grinned.

"I'm not talking about you, Jocelyn, and you know it. But I also know you know what I am talking about. Either that, or they're abusing their badge and position some other way. John's not doing that. You wouldn't have had anything to do with him if he were."

"No, he's not, Mom, and not just because he doesn't have a badge to abuse. He is the best man I have ever known, next to Daddy. I love him so much."

Corinne smiled. "Yes, baby, I believe you do. And hey, better late than never, I suppose. I'm just a grumpy ole mom who wants the very best for her daughter, just as you do for Taylor and Aaron, and this new little one in your tummy. Oh, I finally get to say out loud how happy I am to be a grandma for the third time! Yes!"

Joss and her mother both laughed and whooped it up a little, just before John, Aaron and Taylor came into the room, all freshly slept, fed and scrubbed. Aaron sported a pair of sandals and denim overalls without a shirt, since the temps were well back into the hot and muggy from the night before. He also wore his very own Seattle Mariners baseball cap, which, at the moment, he wasn't actually trying to take off for a change. He smiled quietly when he saw that Gramma Corinne was in the room with his mommy. She, in turn, reached out to tickle him and take him from John once he walked over to greet her with a kiss.

"How's our patient doing this morning, Corinne?"

"Well, I'd say she's as right as rain now, John. I heard about the new arrangement you two have, and I must say it's a mighty improvement over the old one."

John grinned. "Yes, it's been a long time coming. Actually, Joss, I didn't tell you this before, but that walk I took over at Corinne's the other day had me doing some thinking. Real hard thinking, about the future. Our future, to be exact."

"Did it now?" Joss asked.

It had. The blow up at Aaron over his behavior, and the subsequent storm out definitely gave John pause and time to cool off, but it also gave him a chance to consider his life and the life of his family, as well as his place in it. What was his obligation to Joss? To Aaron and Taylor? To himself? As he walked through neighborhoods and across train tracks, all of these questions came to him—as well as the answers to them.

The truth was, even if she'd not had the accident with their unborn child, he had made the decision to quit the numbers anyway. His anger at his son that day, while not unusual for a father of an infant, even one as adorable as Aaron, was the result of having not been there, of still not completely having the comfort level a dad more present for his child's upbringing would have.

And he didn't want that feeling anymore. His existence needed to change, for Aaron and Taylor's sakes. For Joss' sake. And truly, for his own. He simply didn't want to miss out on any more of these kids' lives.

So he wouldn't. No one knew better than he did how short and fleeting life could be. All the war and death he'd seen, all the broken lives—it was far too easy to fall into a life and death of despair and loss. But even beyond that, it was what had been happening before his own eyes that made him seriously change course. What seemed like just a moment ago, his little boy was a newborn, and then a three-month-old—and pretty soon, he'd be celebrating his first year of life. Now, there was another child on the way to bless their lives with. He or she would be there before they all knew it. They grew up so quickly. And he had to be there to see it.

And not the least of all, he missed Joss. Missed touching her, holding her, just as she had him, deep in the night, after a number went either well or not-so-well. Many an early morning, before the break of dawn, he'd find himself at the front door of his apartment, facing the potential of a cold, empty bed and just waited there, ticking off the choices he had: either to go in and pass out on his makeshift sofa bed, in his clothes, or go back down to the parking lot and drive "home"-to his kids and to their mother, his beautiful lady. Some work nights he wanted her so badly that he actually would steal off to Brooklyn, his change of direction in the car as abrupt as a screech of the tires and a jump of streets leading away from loneliness and to love. He'd had a key, of course, but instead of that, he'd slip in through the bedroom window, which she often kept unlocked, so as not to wake up Taylor down the hall with his footfalls.

On those rare, unannounced visits, he'd find Aaron, their little man sleeping soundly, and Joss, her breasts bare from feeding, the two of them tucked in together, keeping one another warm and safe. And he'd just stand there, watching them from the window, a smile of love and pride across his face. He'd silently strip off his clothes and press his body into the bed to snuggle in beside her, releasing a sigh that carried all the mayhem and trouble of the streets away for a little while, such a precious little while.

Both Joss and Aaron would stir upon his entry, but not enough to wake them. And soon, they all settled in again, snuggling up together. They saved that space for him; it was there, it would always be there, whenever he could avail himself of it, no questions asked. Before the full dawn, though, he always rose and was gone, before she was conscious, before she could convince him to stay. Because in those moments, when he sought her nearness like a thirsty man seeks water, she could have convinced him. She could have convinced him to do anything she'd wanted him to.

Today was different. She hadn't needed to say a word. Their unborn child was the straw that broke the camel's back. He was there to stay.

"Well then, I guess we have Aaron to thank for this change in course," Joss said. Then, to the baby on his grandma's lap, "huh, boo-boo? You acting up like a little bad butt got Daddy mad enough to change his mind. My sweet baby!"

"Aaaaaaoooommmm...ma-ma-ma-maaaaaaa...," Aaron replied before squealing in happiness.

Just then, Dr. Tillman appeared. The grin on Joss' face turned into a look of mild surprise at seeing her, as she didn't know that part of John's communication from the night before included alerting Finch that the good doctor's services were being requested.

"Hello, Joss. It's good to see you again—and in such good shape. I hear congratulations are in order!"

"Yes...yes, thank you...um, Dr. Tillman, forgive me, but why are you here, so far outside Manhattan? Have you moved practice?"

Dr. Tillman raised an eyebrow. "Actually, Joss, no. I got a call last night, and was dispatched to come and attend to you. You didn't know?"

"No, I didn't," she replied, while turning her head towards John and glaring. "John, what do you know about this?"

John cleared his throat before answering matter-of-factly. "Dr. Tillman is the best. She took care of you and helped deliver Aaron. You're pregnant again. You had a scare last night, a close call. I called her to take care of you once again. Very simple."

"John, as wonderful as Dr. Tillman is, I have an OB/GYN and a general practitioner already. And I'm sure Dr. Tillman is very busy. I'm sorry about this, Dr. T. You didn't have to come all the way here.

Dr. Tillman grinned. "It's all right, Joss. You have always been one of my favorite patients. And it was my honor to be your doctor the last time, as it will be this time. And look at this little guy over here! He's gorgeous! Hello, Aaron. I haven't seen you since you were born!"

"You want to hold him, Dr. T?" Corinne asked.

"Well, sure. Hi, Aaron!" she said, walking over to Corinne and Aaron. Aaron willingly went to Dr. Tillman's arms, as the large buttons on her summer blouse caught his eye.

While she held him, she continued to talk with Joss. "You two obviously have to talk about this, so I will let that happen before I fully commit to care once again. I would be honored, as I said, to continue as your private doctor, Joss, as I did with Aaron. However, whatever you decide, while I'm here, I just wanted to let you in on the preliminary test results from last night."

All the family was at rapt attention now. So far, Joss had been feeling good, and she was still scheduled to get discharged that day. But they needed to hear this.

"As I introduced myself, with John's input, as your physician, I was given access to your record of treatment."

"And?" Joss asked, the crease in her forehead showing itself prominently.

"Well, as you've been hearing, you're doing very well, and the baby you're carrying is doing well also. The morning sickness you've been experiencing, as I'm sure you are aware, is normal. However, I really, really must stress, Joss, that you take some time off. This episode was your body's way of telling you that you're exhausted, and that you need a break. A good, solid break. Not just a week, not just a month. But a number of months. Your blood pressure was slightly elevated at the time of testing, which, at this point is fine—but if you continue on the course you've been on, that elevation will continue, which could have repercussions for your unborn child, and you. Couple that with a touch of anemia and the dehydration from the heat, and yes, that's not a recipe for a totally healthy pregnancy early on."

"I see," Joss said, nodding her head in understanding. "The emergency room doctor said the same. Well, okay. I guess I can do that. But does that mean I have to stay in bed all day? Because I'm really not the stay-in-bed-all-day type. At least not everyday for months at a time until this baby is born. I never did that with my two other children."

"Well, no, nothing as drastic as all that. But the daily work around the house, caring for Aaron, you'll need help with that, better yet, not to do much of that at all. Now, I understand that this little sweetheart needs his mommy, and that will be a challenge, but if you could perhaps hire a part-time housekeeper or a nanny, maybe-"

"That won't be necessary, Dr. Tillman," John interrupted. "I'll be there, in the house, to take care of Joss and Aaron and Taylor, along with the rest of it. And I'll make sure she follows doctor's orders, no exceptions."

"John..." Joss began to gently protest.

"Jocelyn, listen to John," her mother piped in from the corner. "He says he's going to take care of you. Let him do that. And then you give me a new grandbaby to spoil."

She looked over at John, who stood with his arms folded and a smirk on his face. "You heard her, Joss. As of last night, you are on early maternity leave."

"Yeah, Ma. I second that," Taylor said.

"Now, I can make sure that the hospital floats the record of your visit here to your primary, as well as my recommendations for treatment. Along with rest, you'll need to make sure you get on a course of vitamins and make regular visits to your dietitian, as well as your GYN. Of course, if you'd just like me to take your care on outright..."

"Thank you, Dr. Tillman," Joss said. "You know what? Let me think about it, you being my doc again? I promise I'll let you know soon. I just...need to get out of this hospital."

"I understand, Joss. Based on your vitals and other results, I have recommended to the attending that you be discharged soon, with a detailed care plan. John, I trust that you'll have everything in hand?"

"You got it, Dr. Tillman. And thank you again."

"You're welcome. What do you say, Aaron? Ready to go back to Mommy? I bet you are going to make a great big brother. Yes, you will!"

"Mmmuuuuummmgaaaahh..." Aaron answered as he nibbled on his fingers. Dr. Tillman handed him to Joss.

"I'll just stop by the nurses' station for one last consult and listing in your chart before I go. John, you have my number. Give my best to Harold."

"Will do. Have a good one, Dr. Tillman."

At Dr. Tillman's exit, the collective sigh of relief could be heard loud and clear over the TV and all the other activity of the floor. So, Joss was being required to rest, but all in all she was okay. It was down to John to now keep the household in order as well as see to the major needs of their children. It was a mission he was more than ready and eager to take on. He was their father, and it was time, he thought, that he put in more of his own weight on the ground, the house. Shaw and Lionel would take care of the scumbags of New York.

"Well, that's that, Ma." Taylor said. "How do you feel?"

Joss' eyes widened in a kind of joyful bewilderment. "How do I feel? Like I can't wait to get home to start this new chapter of our lives. It's official. Come next March, our third baby will be here."

"Hallelujah!" Corinne exclaimed, raising her hands to heaven.

"Amen," John said.

##

After Joss' discharge, the family returned to the motel at Montauk Beach and checked out for the ride home. Before they got the road, however, they stopped for a celebratory lunch, while Aaron had his formula, heated up at the motel kitchen. Afterwards, Corinne and her family parted ways as they each made the trek back to their respective homes. Taylor was glad to be going back; while he'd had a good time at the beach, Joss' ordeal had made the weekend seem longer than it was. Spending time back in his room, with the air conditioner and his mom's comforts was what he wanted most now.

Traffic was light, and within two hours, they were back in Brooklyn at the brownstone. Joss got Aaron out of his car seat and into the house, while John brought in knapsacks, beach chairs and other items they'd taken on their trip. Taylor helped.

As soon as they were all settled, Joss placed Aaron in his playpen with a binky, and sat down on the couch, her care plan for the next few months in front of her. Much of the success of this would rely on John, she thought. But then, she knew that she no longer had to worry about that. He was there. And he was going to be there. The euphoria was beyond comprehension.

John came into the living room. "Hey, listen. There's something I need to do. I'll be a little while. You guys gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. What do you need to do?"

"Just something I have to take care of. I'll be back, sweetie."

"It's okay, John," Taylor said. "I can look out for Ma and Aaron."

"You read my mind, T. Thanks. I'll be right back."

And, as quickly as he came in, he was back out to the car again. His destination was his apartment. If he wasn't going back into the field, he'd need a few things for the brownstone—namely, more clothes. He'd hold onto the place on Baxter Street until the lease ran out, and then return the keys to Harold. No point in having an apartment he wasn't going to be living in anymore. There would be more things to move from there to Joss' place. But for now, some more clothes and a few guns, which he'd store in her cellar.

As he got settled into the driver's seat again, he realized how happy he was. It was a strange kind of feeling. Oh, he was happy with Joss as a rule—but this was different. It was a happiness of hope. Perhaps that's what had held his feet in with the numbers up to now. The notion that whatever joy he felt with Joss and the boys that it was only temporary, fleeting, like the lilt of the wind. Now, that all the events were unfolding as they were, and he and Joss were only to be blessed more than he ever thought possible, the happiness wasn't fleeting. It was real, and not only that, it was paying dividends he was always wary of believing he could attain.

And before he turned the key in the ignition, he allowed it to happen: the tears came. They welled and fell from his eyes like fat pearls. But make no mistake, they weren't tears of sadness. He was overjoyed. So much so that he whooped and hollered, punching the ceiling of the car with both fists while half sobbing, half laughing his joy into being.

When he got a hold of himself, he found a pack of tissues in the glove compartment and cleaned up. His eyes were red in his rear view, but they twinkled back at him, just as the stars had the night before.

Finally, he turned the ignition, and pulling into traffic, headed for Baxter Street.

 **A/N: I was going to end this here, but I think I might need to at least see the Carter-Reese family through either (1) the end of the summer; (2) Aaron's first birthday; (3) the birth of their third child. I have ideas for all of those, so I believe there will be more to come. But John will be there to take care of Joss throughout it all.**

 **I hope you enjoy, as usual, and thanks for the indulgence. On to the POI finale Tuesday night. Oh, and Happy Father's Day!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: The saga of the Carter-Reese family continues. Now that John is around the house, he gets to learn more about how it all goes full time. Joss settles into her third pregnancy, Taylor gets his mind ready for his junior year at Brooklyn Magnet School, and Aaron continues to grow and discover more about his little world. John also gets a chance to learn more about and be a small part of the community.**

 **This chap focuses on Labor Day weekend, the last hurrah of the summer. A block party is taking place at one of the neighborhood parks, and the family Careese is in the full swing of things. Enjoy this one, and stay tuned!**

Joss had Aaron's blanket and favorite toys sprawled out across the living room floor, in anticipation of playing with her son while his father got breakfast ready, and in the few hours before he went down for his afternoon nap. She smiled. This had become their routine now, one that would have been hard for her to contemplate before. In the past, school would still be in session, so she'd be trying to get Taylor out the door with his belly fed, his lunch made and packed, his clothes and homework inspected, and all while dealing with Aaron, who was being a fussy boy all on his own before he got nursed.

Then, there was his bath and dressing before checking and responding to emails, and teaching her first of three sessions of online classes. She only did that three days a week, but the amount of work that went into her class preparation, grading, and consultation was considerable. There were laundry loads to wash, dry, iron and fold, teenage homework to check, baby bottles to scrub, diaper pails to dump, floors to mop and vacuum, grocery and baby clothes shopping to do, video games to put in her older son's room before she got to cleaning there, postal mail to open, bills to be paid, repairmen to call, trips to the library for Children's Story Hour to make.

And if Aaron or Taylor caught colds, sick boys to nurse back to health. Aaron's fevers made him miserable, which in turn made her miserable. And her biggest battle with Taylor when he was ill was to convince him that, no, he wasn't well enough to return to basketball practice until he was indeed well enough. There were times when that battle made any of Aaron's antics a cakewalk. She took to calling John from out in the field for that too, once when Taylor was being particularly stubborn, hacking and coughing all the way. And sure enough, John's talk with him over the phone was enough to change his mind.

Her life had been a whirlwind of change and adjustment over the past year or so, and it was set to change again, but this time, she knew that she could breathe a little more because the man she loved, the father of her children, was there for good. She loved her life as it had been, of course, but now that everything was out in the open and John was on board with their new addition, she was finding out just how wonderful she suspected it would be if he were to leave the numbers behind.

He threw himself headlong into fatherhood. And the house was now being run as if they had all been inducted into the Army, but in the most loving way possible. They were on schedules. Meals were planned and executed with precision and an eye towards both nutrition and tastiness. Laundry was done and folded immediately, and put away just as efficiently. Taylor was recruited to help with more chores beyond keeping his room tidy and emptying the dishwasher. Recreation time for the remaining summer days was planned and researched, with an eye towards giving Joss the most comfort possible while the kids enjoyed themselves. Basketball practice with Taylor was every other day for two hours after dinner, even if he'd had a pick up game with his pals from school, and Aaron was getting in some planned play dates with a few of the other babies in their neighborhood, with John as the chaperoning parent this time instead of Joss. Even his sleep patterns at night were more regular, as he hadn't had a late-night wake up since John quit his job.

And as far as taking care of Joss went, she couldn't have asked for a better nurse. She had agreed to take on Dr. Tillman as her care provider, and from there, she followed her instructions to the letter, mainly because John wouldn't allow her to do otherwise. He was the biggest worrywart—and she loved every second of it, even if it could be a bit stifling at times. But more than that, she just loved having him there, home and safe and happy with her and the kids. And when their third baby came, it would be even better.

Soon, she heard that giggle-coo of Aaron's, who was being belly tickled by his daddy as they came down the stairs. Combined with the silly noise John made as he buried and wiggled his nose in Aaron's belly, his amused screams were infectious, and Joss laughed in kind. When Aaron saw her, he pointed and said "mah-meeee," while reaching out to her for a cuddle.

"Hi, baby. How are you? Oh, you smell so good. Daddy got you your bath. Yes! So good and soft you are. Mmm, come here. Come here and give Mommy some sugar," she purred. Aaron gladly did as she asked.

"Mah-meeee," he repeated softly, while looking at her, and grabbing at her cheeks, before smiling and cooing again. His two bottom teeth that had been cutting in earlier in the month were now fully erupted, and she could now make out the first two top teeth trying to do the same. Her baby boy was getting bigger and stronger by the minute, just a few days shy of turning nine months old. Pretty soon, they'd be celebrating his first birthday. He was able to pull up and stand without falling on that coffee table, and he was already trying to take a tentative step or two while holding on. He'd be walking before long. His growth was simply incredible, and it was a joy to see it happen in front of her.

She dipped her lips forward and caught him quick two times near his little pouty mouth before catching him into a big hug. Then she put him down on the play blanket with his toys, so as to give his father that same hug and kiss.

"Good morning, sweetie," John said in response. "You hungry?"

"Yes, I'm starving. What are we having for breakfast?"

"Oh, whatever you and baby here would like. Waffles sound good?" he asked, running his hand over her belly. A tiny bump was now apparent as she approached the end of her first trimester.

Joss' eyes widened. John actually made use of the waffle iron her mother had bought her for Christmas years before but she never touched. She soon found that his homemade waffles were better than Eggo's any day. And with the real maple syrup, blueberries, bananas and whipped cream in the cupboard, they would hit the spot.

"Mmmm, yes, yes, waffles, please. Oh, I got more cream cereal for Aaron when we were out yesterday, so he'll like that with some banana. Is Taylor up yet?"

"Not sure. His door was still shut, so I didn't want to bother him. I think since he'll be back at school next week, he's trying to prolong his summer vacation as long as he can."

"Hmm, well, if you make waffles he'll be sad if he misses them. I'll go see about him. Come on, Aaron. Let's go wake up your brother. Wanna come with Mommy? Come on, boo."

"Mah-meee," he repeated from the floor, a squeezy toy in his hand.

John waved her off. "Let him sleep, babe. Remember, he was up late last night helping your mom move that patio furniture. I'm sure he's tired out from all that. Hell, I helped move the side tables she has, and that took some wind out of me."

"Well, I don't want him to miss waffles. He loves them, especially when you make them."

"Did someone say waffles?" Taylor's voice soon appeared on the stairwell, his eyes puffy with sleepiness. "I'm down."

"You're up," Joss said as Aaron used her leg as a brace. She briefly looked down to make sure he was okay pulling up on her before grinning at a sleepy—yet hungry—teenager in front of her.

"Yeah, I am. Who could stay asleep when you got this one over here laughing the house down?" he said, gesturing towards Aaron with a yawn.

"Ah, that's my fault, I'm afraid," John said. "Sorry, son."

Taylor smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. He was still in his pajamas and tee-shirt. "It's okay, Pop. Besides, I really do like your waffles, so I suppose it's perfect timing. But we gonna have two of them babies in here screaming soon, man."

"Now, Taylor," Joss said, with a slight pout. He had been so good about Aaron, and even this baby he was happy with—but it would make for a bit of a squeeze in his life. He wasn't an adult yet, and college was still two years away. There was no way on earth she wanted to make her oldest baby feel like there wasn't room for him in their home because of the younger children. She loved him something fierce and she'd make a conscious effort to make sure that there was still room—and time—just for him.

"It's fine, Ma. Y'all will be saying the same thing when one or the both of them are screaming their eyes out. I remember Grandma's home daycare. Whoo!"

Corinne had, for a brief time, ventured into the business of home daycare. It was lucrative, and she was able to do it for a few years, but the state mandates and the reams of paperwork got to be too much for her, and she closed it down, much to the chagrin of some of the neighborhood parents, who had loved the care she'd provided for their children. From there, she stayed in the game by working at a neighborhood center as a part-time aide, and as an on-call nanny at some of the local childcare centers. The pay wasn't nearly as nice as when she was in business for herself, but it kept her busy, and with her assets from pensions and profits made prior, she managed to be comfortable in her little house in the Bronx.

"Oh, yeah, I suspect that will happen. You ready for that, John?"

John smirked and widened his eyes, and he was the spitting image of his little son, who was busy banging two plastic donut rings together on the blanket. "Well, about as ready as I'll ever be, I suppose. No worries. I still have my Army Ranger earplugs. If they could drown out explosives, I'm sure a little tag-team crying can't be too much of a stretch."

After a time, John made his way to the kitchen to get breakfast started. Indeed, Aaron would have his cream cereal and banana, with a medium bottle of formula, mixed with Joss' breast milk for his meal. As she was pregnant once again, her milk was becoming a little more difficult to express, but she would make the attempt for as long as she could, and as long as Dr. Tillman said it was viable. As she was already in the process of weaning, he continued to roll with the punches, well used to having the bottle now, as well as his food from his baby bowl.

Waffle iron heated and oiled, John prepared the batter, two batches for the four of them, including their unborn. Since the incident at the fun fair on Montauk, and Dr. Tillman's intervention, the worst of the morning sickness had passed, and she was well possessed of a hearty appetite. She was, after all, eating for two again.

With stacks of waffles, eggs, bacon, and fruit coming to the kitchen table soon after, the family sat down to breakfast. Juice and coffee rounded out the beverages. Aaron got his high chair and cereal, but Joss and John both knew he was eyeballing those waffles something fierce.

"Okay, Aaron, I'll make you a deal. You eat some of your yummy cereal here, and I'll give you a little waffle. Okay, baby?"

Aaron stared at him for several seconds before blowing a spitball, looking down and dipping his hand into his bowl. Soon, the hand went straight to his face, in an effort to stick his fingers in his mouth. Most of it ended up on his nose and cheeks.

"Oh, my goodness, Mr. Messy," John laughed. "You know, that's not quite what I had in mind, son. Here."

Once Aaron took a few gobbles of his cereal as John fed it to him with the spoon, Daddy indeed relented and gave him a small crust of waffle that was big enough for him to hold in his hand. He stared at that too, before trying to shove it in his mouth, only to pull it out again, deem it sound, and then shove once more.

"Blluuuuummmm...yuuuuummmm...na-na-naaaaa..." he sang in appreciation of the waffle. Within a few minutes, it was completely gone. Now that he had a few teeth, solid food was becoming more and more of an option for him, though Joss knew that these things were best done gradually.

"There's our good boy," John said, satisfied that Aaron had gotten his fill of breakfast. "Now, you're all ready for a day of play! Taylor, don't forget, we have a practice this evening," he said, turning to him after wiping Aaron's hands and face with a wet cloth.

"Yeah, Pop. Curtis was gonna come too, if that's okay."

"Yeah, of course, Curtis is a great kid. Plus, might make things interesting."

"Exactly. He has a mean jumpshot, Pop. Run for both our money."

Joss had been busy looking over a list she'd been making as John fed Aaron. With a pen, she began crossing off names and numbers. The sound of the pen, along with her silence, caught John's attention.

"What's that there, babe?" he asked.

"Oh, it's just the contact list for the Labor Day block party at the park. Remember, I'm on the fundraising committee? This is just me keeping track of those people I've contacted, for cash donations for the cookout and concert. So far, out of a list of 200, that I had, I'm up to 108 of the people I initially sent out fliers to, and who sent checks in. We've raised a little over $14,000 in total, so far, which is great. That alone will be enough to pay for all the food and cleaning crew, as well as provide a little something for the amusements, free carousel, and the local bands playing. But again, I've a little ways to go.

John raised a thoughtful, quizzical eyebrow before sipping his orange juice. "What about security?"

"I got it covered," she sailed excitedly. "It pays to have been an NYPD detective. I put in a word to some guys on the force and they've agreed to be our patrol for the day, in exchange for all the burgers and dogs they could eat, of course."

John nodded. "Okay. Well, if I can help in any way, you let me know. God, I haven't been to a block party since...never," he said, laughing.

"Oh, all kinds of things you've never done before hooking up with me, John. I hope I'm not corrupting you."

"Not a chance, babe. Besides, far, far worse things have certainly happened."

"I love you, too," she said, with a wink.

##

The Labor Day block party was held at McDaniel Park in Brooklyn on the Saturday of the long weekend. Joss' work in raising money was largely a function of her doing lighter duty than serving food and managing the logistics of the event, so she and her family were more able to actually be among the crowd of a few thousand from the surrounding neighborhoods turning out for the big day. The weather was simply perfect: bright sun and blue skies, with an even temperature, and no rain in the forecast.

John, having traded in Finch's Cadillac for a dark blue family-style Volvo SUV, took advantage of its generous storage space for coolers, lawn chairs, and other park items. Aaron's toys, diaper bag, and snacks fit in with Taylor's sports equipment in the back. There were also pillows and blankets for the folding outdoor futon-type chair set, as John wanted her to be as comfortable as possible while they enjoyed the day. Extra food and drink were also to be packed, in case the lines for burgers and dogs got to be too much hassle, and they got hungry.

While the block party got under way around 10 that morning, they were still at home, and would not head out until after 1pm, when Aaron would awake from his nap. Joss thought it prudent that he get one, so as not to be miserable later on, without benefit of his familiar nursery and crib. He'd get a bottle on the way, if he needed one. Additionally, that gave John a chance to check over everything that they wanted to bring with them, get himself a quick shower, and make sure Joss was okay with her care regimen. Extra vitamins and a gentle nude massage were part of that regimen.

"Mmmm, John, thank you. You do this so well. The best nurse ever."

"Good. That's what I'm here for, in part. Turn this way," he said, tilting his own body to accommodate her. She was lying on their bed, eyes closed, light smile on her face. She moved on her back, as he instructed. It was at that moment that she felt something light up and then it was gone. When she opened her eyes, she saw that John had had his cell phone out, and had taken a picture of her face only, in her state of bliss. She laughed. He snapped two more.

"Those had better not get sent around to anyone, John Reese," she laughed. "Ruin my reputation as a tough lady cop, will ya? Not to mention, I'm butt ass naked! Boy..."

"Beauty deserves to be captured in some way. You are my beauty." He leaned over and kissed her softly before sighing and nuzzling her neck, then her breasts.

"You know, our babies are so lucky that you're they're daddy. They love you so much. Even this one in my belly. She knows you, and she's happy."

He raised his head. "You're really sure it's a girl?"

"Mmm hmm, yeah. I don't know for sure, sure yet, but that will come with next month's checkup. I just feel like she is. Mommy's intuition."

"Well, if we get a girl or another boy, I'm over the moon. Two years ago, no kids for me. Now, I'll be the father of three kids. Crazy," he said, shaking his head in wonder.

"I know. I had one kid for 15 years. Now _I'll_ have three within two years." She paused and looked at the ceiling. "You do you really think this was meant to be, John?"

John tilted his head and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "Yes. I'd like to believe so. But if it wasn't, then I'm sure glad it worked out the way it has." He bent down to kiss her, a soft brush of lips at first, which deepened into love and sweetness before turning into the passion that was always at the surface of their interactions. Joss let a soft moan escape from her lips as John's tongue gently pierced her lips and found the tip of her tongue. With a groan, he reached for her breast, and with a fondle of her nipple, Joss wrapped her arms around his neck.

Their passion threatening to overcome them, John abruptly, reluctantly pulled away and kissed her forehead instead. It was probably just as well, since they could hear their little man whimpering himself out of his nap in his nursery.

Joss rubbed her fingernails gently through John's freshly cut hair and scalp with a happy sigh. "Let me get him," she said. "Perfect timing."

"You sure? I can do it," John said, running his fingers across her bare leg and thigh.

"No, it's okay. I need to get him changed and ready for the party anyway. Umm, about that thing we were doing, or just about to do? Hold that thought, baby." With a wink, she upped and pulled on a loose shift gown and opened the door to get Aaron. "Mommy's comin', boo-nut..."

John fell back on the bed, still trying to get his heartbeat back under control after that kiss.

##

"This spot is perfect, John. We're close to the playground and sprinklers, and we get to camp out under the trees. Take a boy out of the Army..."

Indeed, John had found a great spot, even with the number of people and families already camped out in prime spots for the block party. The thing was that the spot they got had its share of grassless patches, which was of no concern to them. So long as the ground was level enough to set up their things for lounging, they were good. Dirt and twigs were no problem.

And set up they did. John and Taylor prepped the futon for Joss and the baby with the light mattress, pillows and blankets. It was big enough for at least two adults, and Aaron would fit in between. There were also straight back lounge chairs, three in number, as Grandma Corinne was also due to join them later on. A small card table was also packed for playing cards and other board games, the water and lemonade jugs for drinks, Aaron's toys and diaper bag, and Taylor's basketball and football. He had also sneaked in a large bottle of blowing bubbles, an item that would be sure to please his little brother, as well as any other young children in the vicinity.

One other item Taylor brought with him caused his mother to frown, however: his video game tablet. When she had seen him fooling with it from the front seat of the SUV she turned to him with that look, the look that could only mean trouble, even from behind her sunglasses and the brim of her blue straw sun hat.

"Taylor Carter, you are not spending this day playing those video games. I mean it."

"Ma, I'm not. Relax," he said, while not tearing his eyes away from the console.

"Why do you have that anyway? You should leave it at home before it gets lost."

"It won't get lost, Ma. I can look out for it. I always do."

"You better, because I'm not buying you another one if it does."

Taylor rolled his eyes and expelled an exaggerated breath. "Ma, it won't get lost. Will you stop? Geez!"

"Okay, it had better not. I'm just saying." She turned back to face the front windshield, her face set with a touch of parental indignation.

"It won't, Ma. Just stop, man. Why don't you worry about Aaron not eating dirt or something?" He sucked his teeth.

"Taylor!" she said, loudly from the front.

At that point, John, who was about to start the car, paused. His voice was low, but firm. "Taylor. Cut it out. Now."

"But, Pop-"

John wasn't having it. "Now, Taylor. That's enough. Your mother is just being concerned. And no, you are not going to spend all day on that thing. In fact, you have until we get to the park and then it goes in the backpack. Understood? So enjoy it while it lasts."

"Yeah, Pop," he responded glumly. It was a rare occurrence that he was that sassy with Joss, but it happened, of course, especially now that he was sixteen. He was looking forward to the picnic, but sometimes his mother nagging him about one of his favorite pasttimes was just too annoying for words. Plus, she was treating him like a little kid, which he wasn't anymore.

However, he knew not to push his luck with John. It wasn't that the former Green Beret and CIA operative was ever mean or hard-hearted with him. He didn't have to be. John's very presence commanded nothing but the utmost regard, and Taylor would sooner die than disrespect or disappoint John. In some ways, he deferred more to John's gentle yet indisputable discipline than his own father's, and it had only been a few weeks since John began living with them full-time. Meanwhile, Aaron was oblivious to the scolding his older brother was getting, far too busy playing with the mini-mobile attached to his car seat and making engine hums with his lips.

"Hey," John said gently yet still firmly, looking back at Taylor through the rearview mirror before starting the engine. "Apologize to your mom, okay?" When he didn't respond right away, he pressed harder, and slowly turned his upper body to face him full on.

"Taylor? We're waiting."

Taylor sighed, his eyes facing down towards his lap. "Yeah, Pop. Sorry, Ma."

"It's okay, baby. I'm just being your mother."

"I know. I wasn't going to play it all day. Curtis and some of the other guys are going to be there. We were gonna play some hoops on the court. It's no big deal."

"Okay, well, good. That's great that your pals are coming, give you something else to do besides electronics. Last weekend of the summer, we gotta make the most of it, right?" She tried to make light in the space of the vehicle, after their spat. Her eyes crossed John's, and the expression of thanks most certainly appeared there.

"Yeah, I guess so. Can I play now?"

John nodded, then turned his head and winked at Joss. Chuckling, he turned the ignition and headed off to the park. Taylor's countdown had begun.

##

After several moments, they had settled down in their space. John, dressed in dark blue shorts, white tee-shirt and strapped sandals, got Aaron, bedecked in his own tee-shirt and shorts combo, but without sandals, ready for sprinkler time. Since he'd had such a good time during their trip to Montauk Beach, he figured the baby would be just as keen on the park sprinklers. And there would be other babies and young children there, which would give Aaron a few friends to splash around with, which he generally enjoyed.

Once Aaron had his swim diaper in place and Joss took his tee-shirt, John divested of his own shirt and wrapped the baby up in a beach towel. Joss blew a kiss to him and wished him fun times, while Aaron waved to her and said "maaaah-meeeee" as he and his father headed off to the kiddie sprinklers.

"I might join you guys in a few. Maybe get wet, too," she hollered to them.

"We'll be there," John responded. "Come on, Aaron! Let's get wet!" He began a slow trot, bouncing Aaron up and down, which caused the boy to laugh.

And indeed, Aaron had a ball. The water, which shot out of colorful figurines of animals such as whales, elephants, hippos, and dolphins, was cool and refreshing as it spattered out of the figurines and onto the hard concrete. There was also a spinning sprinkler, which got John wet while he dipped Aaron in and out of the spray. It was a good thing he came over without his own shirt. After ten minutes, he was completely soaked from head to toe.

But it was great fun for him too. The best joy on earth was watching and hearing his son happy, blissfully so, giggling like a fool as the water hit his legs, belly and face. Couple that with the shouts and screams of the other children with their parents, and he was in his own childhood heaven. Soon, Joss actually did come over to join them, while Taylor was left in charge of keeping an eye on their things, and waiting for Grandma Corinne to make her appearance.

"Maaaa-meeee! Maaaa-meeee!" Aaron squealed as she approached. She was wearing a purple flowing wrap dress, tie-dyed at the middle and the bottom, black flip-flops, and her blue sun hat. Her hair was tucked under the hat. She carried that glow of a pregnant woman all about her in the afternoon sun, her shoulders and back burnished brown gold, her tummy just beginning to protrude. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world. As usual. As always.

"Are you having fun, Aaron? Yeah? It's so cool over here! Mommy's gonna get a little wet too! Daddy just better not splash me though."

John looked up, innocently. "Who me? Never!"

"Oh, shut up, yes you," she laughed, while mock aiming at his head with her accusing forefinger.

"Okay, I'll be good. I won't have to splash you though. Look at me. I'm soaked just standing here with Aaron."

The boy continued to wiggle and squeal in joy. His mood was infectious, and the water, while cold, was refreshing. Other children continued to run back and forth, and other parents indulged their children in their own joy.

Joss got wet. Really wet. But she didn't care. She was able to revel in it with her family. It was good. It was all so very very good.

##

As the day began to fade into late afternoon, the family settled down for their barbecue dinner. Corinne had since arrived, and brought dessert with her, so between what the gang was able to get from the block party eats and what they had on their own, they were well supplied with delicious food for their picnic setting. Joss used the game table as a mini buffet, and she sat with Aaron on their futon to feed him before she had her own meal. By that point, he was seriously hungry, as evidenced by his mood and screams. Joss put in a cell phone call to John, to tell him that their meal service was set up.

After they had returned from the basketball court and their pick up game with Curtis and the other boys, John and Taylor, of course, inhaled more food than all of the rest of them put together. Three burgers, two dogs with ketchup, mustard, and relish, barbecued chicken, salad, corn on the cob, chips, and lemonade. And they still had room for dessert. Basketball seemed to do that to them, work up their appetites. Her men. Aaron was going to be just like them.

The day was lively and exciting. Bustling activity continued with the crowds of families, live music, games, contests, and other attractions. In between the entertainment, a few community service awards were handed out, as well as raffle winners announced. Joss had been inspired to get up and dance a few times, even, when the soulful sounds of Mike's R&B All-Stars played some of her favorite jams. John, for his part, merely watched her from his seat on the futon with a half-smile, half-smirk, his amusement—and arousal—evident each time she looked back and saw him watching her.

They even had a few visitors. Mabel Lee Jones, one of their neighbors, a third grade schoolteacher and mother to her own two children, one of whom, a girl, was a few months older than Aaron and walking, came over with her husband, Fred. They had just arrived at the party, and were looking around for a place to set up when they came across Joss and her family.

"Mabel? Hey!"

"Joss, Aaron! Oh, my goodness! Well, Fred, we know where we're sitting now."

Fred laughed. "I guess we do. You and Joss, ain't no stoppin' y'all."

"Yes, girl, come on here. We got plenty of space under this tree. Come on."

So they did. It had been some time since they'd spent time together, Joss sometimes out in the back yard working, Aaron in tow, waiting for Taylor to get home from school, when Mabel would walk up, her schoolbags weighing her down after a long day, the kids along for the ride. They would chat for a while before Mabel went in to get supper started, as well as plan a long night grading schoolwork and planning for her students for the week. Her chats with Joss were a nice break in the race, and she was happy to meet up with a fellow African American mother with a young child like herself. The neighborhood they lived in was well diverse—but Mabel had grown up in that part of Brooklyn, and it wasn't as 'black' as it once had been. She and Joss had much in common and both were happy for the connection.

The only crazy thing about it all was that Mabel had never had the opportunity to meet John before then. He had always been out in the field, and on his weeks home, the run-in just hadn't occurred. But at that moment, Joss had the chance to formally introduce her partner to her friends.

"Mabel, Fred, this is...John. Aaron's dad, and you guys know my mom. John, this is Mabel, and her husband, Fred, my—our—neighbors that I've been telling you about."

John stood, still out of his shirt, and extended his hand. If Joss hadn't known better, she'd have thought he was being a little shy about meeting their neighbors. But then, this was sort of new territory for him. Before, it was just Joss and the kids. Outside of them, it was Harold, Lionel, and Sameen, along with a few shadowy associates, like Carl Elias and Zoe Morgan. That circle had been carefully crafted for their safety and the safety of the city. However, with his leaving the numbers behind, exchanges like this were far more possible, far more likely. She hoped so. Joss knew Fred to be a good man, and it would be great if John could open himself up more to that kind of relationship. He'd been on vigilante mode for so long. This would be a new direction for sure.

She could see the surprise in Mabel's eyes as he shook hands with her, and then Fred. The dawning of realization passed over her face, the realization of Aaron's paternity, and why he looked the way he did. Yep, every time.

"John. So nice to meet you finally."

"Likewise, Mabel, Fred."

Mabel's oldest sat down on their blanket, while their baby girl waved to Aaron, who was hypnotized, as he often was when confronted with other little people like himself.

"Aaron, you wanna play with Lissee? Here, come on. On the blanket with Lissee," Joss said, and put him down with the other infant. He was still hypnotized, when Lissee came over to wave at him. He then looked at his mother.

"It's okay, Aaron. You know Lissee. And you are not shy," she laughed.

Meanwhile, John engaged in small talk with Mabel and Fred. They spoke of their occupations, which of course, John could only do in code talk, but the couple got enough to understand that he did something with security. Fred was a social worker in the New York City Public Schools, which was how he and Mabel met. Joss having been a homicide detective would explain her tie to John. After the initial awkwardness, John began to warm to Mabel and Fred, and he was glad, now that he'd met them, that Joss had had them as friends when he couldn't be there. They were good people. And they had a baby playmate for Aaron.

It was also there that Joss revealed to Mabel that she was expecting again. The ladies whooped and hugged it out in excitement, while Fred and John shook hands in congratulations for the impending addition. The ladies then got into a flurry about baby showers and plans for all that. Meanwhile, Taylor found his bubble soap and began to entertain the youngsters with big globes that sailed and bounced on the ground before they popped out of existence. Aaron and Lissee, mesmerized by the bubbles, soon began to crawl after them, which of course got mothers and fathers to gladly chase after them.

The families continued to eat and chat with each other for the next few hours, while Aaron played with Lissee and her older brother, Daryl, who was five and had brought along a few action figures to play with, though he had to be careful around the babies, for danger of small parts. He had a large robot toy with him, which Aaron had great fun knocking over each time Daryl stood him up. Luckily for Aaron, Daryl was a good sport, basically doing that so Aaron would knock Robot Man over.

When dusk started to roll in, the air took on a cool yet gentle breeze. Aaron, who'd had a good nap earlier on, was just getting his stride, it seemed, as he crawled around with Lissee, and his older brother had to chase him in order to keep him with them. Each time Taylor re-positioned Aaron back to their side of things, he began to cry in frustration. John's solution for that was to take him over to the bandshell, with Fred and his two children, so that they could dance with their daddies to old Beatles covers.

Meanwhile, Joss, Corinne, and Mabel began to tidy up a little. The dusk was turning to early evening, and while they were not quite ready to leave, the time would certainly come for that soon enough. Paper plates, cups, and other trash were not to be left because they couldn't see well in the night.

And when the cover of night did come, and the party was still in full swing, Joss settled in with John and Aaron, who had returned from the Beatles music. Aaron had fallen asleep, and so she took him down to her breast to continue his slumber, while they all cuddled together on the outdoor futon. John snuggled in with them, holding Joss as she held their son, his caresses on her back and shoulders gentle and loving, while he created a buffer between Aaron and the rest of the futon. He chatted a little more with Fred and Mabel, as well as Corinne, while he relented with Taylor and allowed him to take a call from one of his friends on his cell phone.

The band music had gone from Beatles covers to Motown. They were playing Smokey Robinson and the Miracles' "Oooh, Baby, Baby," one of his favorites. Had she been up with the baby, he would have danced with her. But now, he was so content to just lie there with them and cuddle close. Whether she fell asleep or not, he didn't care. He was just happy to hold her and their son. He kissed her forehead before finding her lips for two good, lingering pecks. She snuggled in deeper. He pulled the light sofa throw over her and the baby and continued to stroke her back. Aaron sighed, his binky bobbing up and down in his mouth as he slept.

Mabel, from the corner of her eye, could see them, and smiled. No wonder Joss was keeping this one hidden from everyone. Having only spent a few hours with him, she already knew what a special, rare, man he was—and how much he worshipped and adored Joss and their family. She was glad a sister had found one of the good ones, just as she had with Fred, whatever color he was.

This one had been a Labor Day weekend to remember. Soon, Taylor would be picking out his clothes for first week, until the required uniform signaled the norm of the school year. And as the summer faded into fall, Joss would continue to grow larger in pregnancy, while Aaron headed toward his first birthday and his second Christmas.

John had no time to miss the numbers, no time to regret those people out there who needed help and didn't get the benefit of his. His family came first. And while he'd often said that over the past year, he was really putting that, finally, where it belonged. Front and center. And he was having a blast. They were having a blast. Parenthood wasn't easy—but it was worth every drop of sweat, every headache, every stinky-stink diaper, every sleepless night with a sniffling infant, every bit of it.

And he couldn't wait for more of that. He really couldn't.

 **A/N: I keep saying that this one is a done one—but it's not. Next time I come to this, it probably will take us through the holidays and the new year, which means the new baby arrives. Probably will be a girl. I won't name her Jessica, though. That could be a bit much. And I won't kill poor Joss with twins. That** _ **would**_ **be too much, hahaha!**

 **John laying down the law to Taylor in the car, eh? He's more likely to respect his stepdad than his real dad, or at least be more afraid of screwing up around him. How's that for bad ass influence? T knows what's up.**

 **I also wanted to include a few friends for Joss and John from the neighborhood. There are others that she is acquainted with, of course, but Mabel is a real friend. And John should be expanding his circle. Being around more should help with that. All part of domesticity.**

 **A further note: His old friends are not completely out of the picture, nor has John got his "hero complex" completely out of his system. Toying with how to address that in the future, but nothing definite yet. We'll see.**

 **Again, I hope you enjoyed, and happy weekend. As usual, stay tuned!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Life continues to roll along for the Carter-Reese family. School starts, football outings happen, holidays get underway—and conversations take place. Enjoy!**

"Taylor? What kind of yogurt do you want with your lunch? We still have blueberry and strawberry banana."

Taylor called from upstairs. "I'll take blueberry, Ma. Thank you!"

Still dressed in her nightgown and robe, Joss sat the items on the counter for Taylor's first day of school lunch. There was a sandwich, chips, an apple, carrot sticks with ranch dip, yogurt, a bottle of water, and some chocolate chip cookies she'd baked the night before. Fortified with an ice pack, she assembled the items in his lunch bag and zipped it up, leaving it ready for him to grab on the way out.

The only ones in their house up at the moment were she and he. John was still in bed, and Aaron usually was able to sleep until 9. It was just as well. She had gotten up earlier than even Taylor did with his alarm set for 6, so as to get him a light breakfast and his lunch, as well as inspect his school supplies and get his clothes ready. The first week back at Brooklyn Magnet the students could wear summer duds with their uniform top, but after that it was the full on uniform, save for dress down days on Fridays. She also had him double check his class schedule and his extracurriculars for the week, as they had a half-day schedule until the following week.

"You almost ready, T? I left you a little breakfast, so make sure you give yourself enough time to eat."

"I'm almost done, Ma."

Within the next 20 minutes, he was bounding down the stairs in a pair of denim shorts, his light blue uniform top, and loafers. He had gone to the barbershop with Corinne the day before, so he was as spit and polish as he could be. Her handsome boy. She couldn't believe he was starting his junior year. It had only been five minutes before when he was in third grade.

He sat down at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal, a glasses of juice and milk, and plated buttered toast in front of him. Joss sat with him, her hair tied in a bun, her chin resting on her fingers.

"Aren't you going to have something too, Ma? Eating for two, you know."

"Yeah, I will. I'll get something here when I get back home from dropping you off for your first day."

Taylor raised his eyebrows as he took a bite of cereal. "You don't have to bring me, Ma. I can get on like I have been. You got Aaron to see about."

" No, no, John can take care of Aaron," Joss said, waving him off. "Now that he's here, I can take you to school again. I want to. It isn't every day that my baby boy goes off to the eleventh grade for the first time. Hey, it'll be the two of us—just like old times."

"Okay," Taylor said. "Well, I better eat up."

"Yes. Hey?"

"Yeah, Ma?"

"You excited? Junior year, upperclassman. Regents, SAT tests, a lot to look forward to. You okay?"

"I don't know," he said. "I guess so."

Joss reached over to him to take his hand. "Baby, you know I love you, right?"

Taylor looked at her. "Yeah. Yeah, Ma. I do. Of course."

"Good. I'm glad. Listen...with all you have on your plate this year at school, and everything that's going to happen here with the new baby, I just...I just want you to know that, I'm still here, when you need me, baby. I'm here and John's here, and Grandma, and I don't want you to ever forget that, okay?"

"Sure, Ma," Taylor said quietly. He swallowed hard, and suddenly couldn't look her straight in the eye. "I know."

"Look at my little boy. Almost grown," she stroked his hair, then his cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Taylor."

"I'm proud of you too, Ma," he said, and reached over, with his milky lips and kissed her soundly on the cheek. Then, he went back to his toast and cereal, finishing them both up within minutes.

"Oh, I need to go and wake up John and throw some jeans on. I'll be right back."

Because her Impala needed some repair work, she planned to take the Volvo SUV to drop Taylor off at school. But she wanted to let him know where she'd be heading off to.

Within several minutes, Joss was back, clad in jeans with a lumbering, still sleepy John in his flannel bottoms and tee-shirt, but no slippers. His hair mussed, with a shade of stubble on his cheeks. He came into the kitchen and got himself a glass of juice, sitting down at the table.

"Hey, T. Ready for the first day back?"

"Sure, Pop. I'm all packed up, breakfast done. Ready as I'll ever be. Aaron still asleep?"

"Yeah, he's had a busy weekend, so he's sleeping in. Babe, the car keys are on the coffee table."

"You got your phone. If you want a pickup, just give a ring, okay? I can come get you, and bring your brother too. Maybe I take you out for pizza, celebrate your first day of the school year?"

Taylor's eyes lit up. "Great! Sure thing. I get out at 12:15 today, and the rest of the week."

"Okay, well, if you can, give me a call and we'll grab you. Aaron has a pediatrician appointment later today, so we can have pizza first, then pick him and Mom up."

"Oh, that's right. Aaron at the doctor for his check up. Cool. After school, then."

"All right, Taylor. We better get a move on," Joss said, looking at her phone. "Don't want you to be late."

Taylor got up and gathered his backpack and lunchbag. Even though it was an early day, he got hungry during the morning sometimes. He was all set.

He looked up at the ceiling and blew a kiss to his brother, who was still asleep. Later, he'd see the baby and tell him all about his morning at school. Before, Aaron used to be awake when he left for the school day, usually screaming his head off, but not always. Some mornings, he was in a good place and he and Taylor would sit together and play a little before Taylor walked to the subway stop for Brooklyn Magnet. But now, he was sleeping later, and since John was home, sleeping later on the regular. He was glad he was getting his rest—but he was still a little wistful at not being able to say goodbye.

"Come on, Taylor. Let's go," Joss said. "John, I'll be back soon. I can make breakfast if you want."

"We'll see, babe. Drive safely. Taylor, come here, buddy." He pulled him into a warm, gentle hug and bade him a good day.

After the embrace ended, Joss and Taylor walked out the door and down the steps. It was still warm out, yet the hum and roar of school buses and vans signaled the end of summer for sure. Before they got to the truck, Joss took out her phone and snapped a few pics of Taylor in his school clothes. She also snapped a few of herself with him. John, considering his state of dishevelment, declined to be in the pics, but she convinced him to take at least one with all of them, now that they were, for all intents and purposes, a bonafide family.

Soon, they loaded into John's SUV, him at the door with his glass of juice, which he'd retrieved from the table. As they departed the from the block, he waved and waved, until the Volvo was but a blue dot in sea of New York traffic.

##

From that September morning, the weeks soon morphed into October, and the hot Indian summer days that they had all become used to slowly but surely began to fade. The leaves on the trees at the local parks had begun their journey towards winter death, but not before one last amazing flush of splendorous color emerged from them. Autumn was perhaps John's favorite time of year, most of all because it was knee-deep football season, and he and Taylor were able to catch as much of it as they could together, both on TV and the occasional fortune of taking in a game at Giants Stadium.

When John's beloved Seattle Seahawks came to town to face East Rutherford's finest that season, he made it a family affair, scoring prime seat tickets for himself and Joss, as well as Taylor and Aaron. To his credit, Aaron, sitting on his daddy's lap in his very own Seattle Seahawks winter hat, mittens and jacket, did well at the game, more than likely because the sensory overload of cheering fans, giant green football field, and big men running across said field gave him too much to focus on to be fussy or otherwise misbehaved. He was fascinated by everything going on at once, and soon got the hang of cheering, as best he could, cooing, shouting and clapping his hands, when he noticed his family and others around him doing so. His antics got the notice of those others near them, who remarked on how much of a little cutie he was—and a born football fan.

The cooling temps of autumn in New York most certainly brought out the thicker blankets, sweaters, and heavy jackets. It also brought out Joss' belly more, as she approached her fifth month of pregnancy. At that point, the family knew what she was having, and her prediction had been borne out true. It was, indeed, a girl baby on the way, a beautiful daughter to go with their two fine sons. John had been in the office for the ultrasound imaging when they got the happy news. He squeezed her hand and tears appeared in his eyes as he laughed in joy.

"I told you, John," she'd said. "I knew we were having a girl this time."

"Yeah, babe. You were on the money. Remind me to take you along next time I go to Vegas, hmm?"

They both laughed at John's joke, at the joy of the moment. But soon, he stopped laughing, and his next words were that of the most ardent and sincerest man she'd ever known. His voiced quivered with emotion.

"God, Joss, I love you. I never knew this. Never knew it could be this good. You know, I used to imagine, those times I'd let myself go there, back in my ranger days, what having a family would be like. Not unlike most men, of course. But my thoughts were never as wonderful as this. And I could never afford the luxury of dwelling on that too much. The job, the mission, the orders. By the time the CIA came calling, there was nothing else. That was my focus. There was no time for this. Now, I can't imagine anything else."

"Serving your country asks a lot of you, John. I know that as well as you do."

"Yes. Yes, it does. Too much." He then took her hand again and kissed it. "Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you for giving me the dream, and then some."

"Well, you've given me something too, John, you know."

"I have? You mean more than just diapers, teething sons, and morning sickness?"

Yes, you have. Taylor and I aren't all alone anymore."

As they sank into each other's giggles, kisses and embraces as best they could on the examining table, Julie, Dr. Tillman's ultrasound tech, soundly interrupted the loving couple with a loud noise that sounded like a broken tuba. They both looked over to find her blowing her nose and wiping her eyes with a wad of hospital tissues pulled from the counter.

##

With the community Halloween party—at which Aaron, dressed as a baby pirate, managed to knock over a 2D cardboard Frankenstein monster into the punch bowl during a tantrum, causing a big mess that his mother humbly cleaned up for him—and other fall activities out of the way, plans were finalized for Joss' baby shower and Aaron's first birthday party, on top of Thanksgiving dinner. They had decided to do it all at the same time, as Aaron's birthday was the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend. Joss would have her shower on that Sunday, which gave them a little space between the holiday.

Their Thanksgiving meal had been a family and friend affair, with not only Corinne in tow, but a few of Joss' cousins up south to New York, as well as one of her aunts from Pennsylvania, Fred and Mabel and their children, the Gonzales' family from down the block, and even members of Team Machine. That included Bear, who had only once visited Joss' house in all the time he'd been in John and Harold's care, and who was a hit with all the guests, mainly because he was such a well-mannered pooch, having found a corner near the living room window and staying put.

John was happy to see his old boy, having not done so since his last visit to the library over the summer to pick up a few of his weapons and other belongings, as well as discuss matters of personal security with Harold, and any exit procedures that might have been needed. It was agreed that Harold would keep after Bear, what with the extra burden having a dog might be with Aaron in tow, and Joss being pregnant again. It was fine that way, as Harold had taken on more of Bear's care since John rescued him from a gang of drug dealers during a number.

Fusco, who was doing double duty dinners between their place and his mother's with his son, Lee was also on hand, while Shaw, with her famous appetite, was keen to dig into whatever goodies she could get her mitts on before the bird was fully done. In between munchies, she took the time to saddle up to John, who was busy making sure his one-year-old son, who was standing independently—though not yet walking—didn't pull the tablecloth off the set dining room table.

"Well, well, look at Daddy Dearest over here. Gotta say, John, you look good doing Ward Cleaver," she said, her mouth full of grapes.

"Thanks, Shaw. From you, that means a lot. You look...nice too," he said, noticing her tasteful black sweater and slacks combo, as he held Aaron's little hands in his own while the baby stood on toddling little legs.

"Thanks! I figure, what the hell, once a year, right? Don't get used to it though. Presentable dress, woof," she snorted.

"I wasn't intending to, Shaw. How are things with Harold?"

"Oh, about as good as they can be, I guess. He needs to get out more. Big hole in the works left when you left, John."

"Yeah, well, I had my reasons, as you can see. Harold understands."

"Shoulda kept those reasons in your pants, Reese," she said, before popping another grape in her mouth.

"Shaw," John said quietly, "I'm sure you'd like to stay for Thanksgiving dinner, even if you have nothing to be thankful for. Let's make that happen, shall we?"

"Oh, come on, John. Your kids are cute, and I'm sure the one in the oven will be too, but how long are you going to do this for? I know you miss it. There's a part of you that wonders what's up out there on those streets. Elias misses you, too, big guy. Been asking for you."

John sighed, and looked straight ahead, before closing his eyes against the futility of what she was saying, while still holding on to Aaron. "Shaw..."

"Ah, I know that look, Reese. You don't want to hear it. But I also know you, and that I-don't-give-a-fuck thing you try to do is so fake. Part of you will always be out there, always wanting to be the guy who saves the day. Come on."

John's jaw clenched as he continued to look straight ahead. But then, he turned to her, slowly, deliberately, with a smirk on his face. He'd had to admit he'd missed her ribbing. That was true enough.

"It's nice to be missed. I didn't know you cared so much. But, actually, I save the day plenty here, in this house, with Aaron. Some of his antics make Elias look like a lightweight," he chuckled, trying to throw her off the scent a little.

But Shaw was Shaw, and she didn't go in for daddy humor. She also wasn't easily shaken. "I still say you miss it out there. You're not really the smelly diaper type, John. But okay, whatever."

"Ms. Shaw, I would ask that you please don't antagonize Mr. Reese as a guest in his home. Besides, it's Thanksgiving, and we agreed no talk of shop this weekend."

"Hello, Finch," John said as Harold and Lionel approached with glasses of wine in their hands.

"John. You have a lovely home here. And Aaron is growing into a fine boy."

Aaron, upon hearing his name, turned smiled at Harold, while cooing at him. John picked him up for a better greeting. It was Lionel's turn to pipe in.

"Hey there, little buddy," he said smiling. "Getting so big now. And you're just a cutie, aren't you? Even if you do take after your dad."

"Nice seeing you, too, Lionel," John snorted.

Aaron merely looked at Lionel as he made faces at him, neither turning away nor smiling, a slight baby pout on his own face. Lionel soon stopped when he realized he couldn't get the boy to crack a smile, and grimaced in kind.

"He's your kid all right, Wonderboy. Ain't no doubt about that."

"Of course not. Why ever would there be, Lionel?" John quipped. Aaron tucked his head into the crook of his father's neck, where the buttons of his thick blue wool sweater began, and those soon caught his attention completely away from his mother's ex-partner. Lionel rolled his eyes, but within them was nothing but mirth. John had to admit he missed that, too.

"I'm sorry I haven't been in touch, Finch. It's a busy life being a parent. What have you got?"

"Perhaps that's for the best, Mr. Reese. As I remarked to Ms. Shaw, it is a holiday. Surely that can wait for another time and place."

"See, I told you he misses it," Shaw piped in.

"Ms. Shaw, please," Harold said, with a hint of irritation in his voice.

"No, no, it's all right, Harold," John said quietly. "She's right. I do miss it. A little." He spoke with a shrug. "But not enough to leave Joss and my babies to go back into it. When I signed on for the numbers I needed a purpose. And through them, I had one. Now, I have a different purpose, a different place where I'm needed. And that's right here with little guy, his brother, and their soon-to-be little sister. Am I curious, however? Of course I am."

Now it was Shaw's turn to roll her eyes and snort. "Will you listen to this guy? The man who knows a hundred ways to kill somebody without anybody finding out about it has gone all 'my babies, goo-goo-ga' on us. That's some crazy shit, man." Her observation ended in a short laugh before she stuffed two more grapes in her mouth.

"Shaw, you know, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't swear in front of my son. Trying to keep him from bad habits as long as possible."

"Oh, that's really rich coming from you, Potty Mouth Reese. Plus, he can't talk yet. Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am. And he does say a few actual words here and there now. Curse words aren't what I'd like added to his vocabulary at this stage. Think you can handle it?"

She rolled her eyes again before exiting the conversation completely, making tracks for the chips and dip. "Kids and their wacko parents," she murmured, shaking her heads. Lionel chuckled in her wake.

"Hey, Wonderboy, for what it's worth, I think you're a great dad. Fatherhood has really taken a shine to you, and I've never seen Joss and Taylor so happy before. Good work, pal."

"Thanks, Lionel. Hey, you should come over more often. Bring Lee with you, and us guys can get a few games of hoops going, or football on TV?"

"Okay. So long as you return the favor and take in some hockey with us. That's more Lee's game."

"Sure thing," John said. "Red Wings look like a favorite this year."

"Islanders all the way, pal. I'm not a betting man, but I might become one if they keep up that momentum from last season."

"Maybe so, Lionel. But we should make some plans. I think Taylor would like that." There was a pause where the two men, once hunter and hunted, silently acknowledged how far they had come as men, as friends, since that harrowing time.

"Yeah, sure," Lionel said. He suddenly moved in closer. "So, about you missing all the action. Was that on the up and up?"

"Yes, sure. A better part of the last few years of my life was spent doing the numbers. You get acclimatized to it. Why?"

"Just figuring that since you've been outta the loop for the past few months, you might want a fill in."

"Detective Fusco-"

"Look, Glasses, it ain't like I'd be talking about players he don't already know about, from the get-go. Shaw was right about Elias and his gang. He was asking about you, last time he had to put up the bail money to spring one of his boys after an attempt on one of Dominic's guys up in Queens."

John lifted Aaron up for a better hold, while his vigilante ears perked up. "Dominic. Dominic. Is that the name of our new wannabe kingpin?"

"That is the name of the top boss in the rival faction looking to take over Elias' business holdings and the overall criminal run of the streets, yes. At the time you'd hung up your guns, Mr. Reese, his identity was not fully known, but we were near a breakthrough. Name of his organization is called the Brotherhood. A rather thorny individual, if I must say so."

"What happened there? Elias has always been so careful, so on top of keeping all his ducks in a row. Don't tell me your old chess partner is losing his touch, Finch."

Harold took a sip of his wine before answering. "I wouldn't say that, John. Elias is every bit as thorough as he's ever been. However, Brotherhood is headed by a rather cunning—and determined—young man. Dominic isn't exactly making things easy for him."

"You got that right, Glasses," said Lionel. "And that just makes him ramp up his retaliation. Which doesn't exactly make things easy for us. Extra patrols from two divisions of the force are eyeballing Dominic's territory up in the Bronx—Drug Task Force and Homicide. We figure it's easier to bring it there, which keeps a bead out on Elias too. Even without HR in business nowadays, thanks to you and Carter, there are still some shadows in the department loyal to Elias. Mind you, their teeth aren't as sharp as Simmons' were—but they definitely keep eyes open."

"Well, it's not as if we didn't offer Elias our own brand of protection, fellas," John said, looking straight ahead again as he listened to the rundown, and while remembering his own tangles—and collaborations—with the erudite gangster.

"Yes, indeed," said Harold, raising an eyebrow. "Always go with the devil you know."

"Any recent games of strategy between you two, Harold?"

"Not as of late, no, Mr. Reese. But all in due time."

John turned his gaze slowly back towards his old friend and partner. "Tell me something, Harold. Dominic's stronghold is in the Bronx. How far beyond 135th Street does his reach extend now?"

"Well, from what we have been able to ascertain, some Brotherhood operatives do have a presence throughout various pockets of the city, though they've mostly only been able to fill in spots that Elias no longer has much use for. Trying to rehabilitate them for their own gain, with varying levels of success. Why?"

"Might one of those areas be Brooklyn? Near the area schools?"

Harold's eyes widened again. "Why, yes. Yes, I suppose it's possible. Young people are the fuel for Dominic's engines, it would seem. Schools would be perfect recruitment grounds, whatever age. Elias has always been steadfast about not targeting children for his particular activities."

"Exactly," Lionel said. "Elias leaves the kids out of his crap. The juvvie system still being what it is in this city, overcrowded, underfunded—those guys know that if a kid gets picked up on a mule charge, they'll run him through the system as long as they can before they're back out on the street. Meanwhile, there are twenty more kids he can pick off to do his dirty work who won't get caught at all. This guy Dominic is total scum."

"Greater or lesser of two evils, huh, Lionel? Flip of a coin? I'm not sure if that makes me feel any better."

Something got you worried, Mr. Reese?" Harold asked

"Maybe. Look, Harold, I know you're shorthanded without me there, but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like you guys to keep an eye out on the area near Taylor's school, Brooklyn Magnet. There are two other schools in that same block, one with an early care center we were thinking of enrolling Aaron in when he gets a little older. I drop Taylor off in the mornings sometimes and usually pick up after school or practice. Over the last couple weeks, I've seen a few things, a few characters, I should say, who don't fit in over there—no matter how young they may be."

Lionel grimaced. He had been considering taking Lee out of the school he was currently in and trying to get him into Brooklyn Magnet for the following year. "You think Dominic's guys might be trying to recruit at BM? That's not exactly P.S. Zero, you know. He's goin' big time."

"I don't know for sure. Without benefit of certain...streams of information, it's hard to tell. But I have my instincts. And they are seldom wrong. I'd hope they would be, in this case." He looked at Harold again. The two men shared their own silent exchange before Harold cleared his throat.

"Understood, Mr. Reese. Detective Fusco, would that be too much of a hardship for you to undertake, keeping an eye out on the area of Taylor's school?"

"Yeah, sure thing, John. We got enough messed up kids in this town. If I can look out for even just a few of 'em, I'll sleep better at night. Lee will, too."

"Thanks, Lionel. Well, I better get this little guy a snack. Either that, or he's gonna eat my sweater buttons instead. Happy Thanksgiving, you two." Aaron indeed had begun to get fussy, kicking and straining his body slightly, in signal to his father that he'd been held long enough.

"Likewise, John," Harold said. "Likewise."

John's old friends went to find their own snacks at the table, while John noticed that Lee and Taylor had fallen in with Bear, and were taking turns petting and rubbing him while chatting. That was good, he thought. Lee was a great kid, and he'd meant it when he said to Lionel that the boys should spend more time together, get to know each other better. And that would indeed mean an extra set of parental eyes on the teens in their lives. If this Dominic character was behind the campaign to unseat Elias, that could have seismic implications for the city—and that wasn't something the team had worked so hard over all those years to let happen.

Elias was no choirboy, of course; he and Marconi had caused more than enough mayhem to last a lifetime, including putting a hit out on Moretti, his own father. But he did operate by a code, a code that John and the rest of Team Machine knew well. And he had proven valuable in helping John to avoid more troublesome aspects of organized crime that were in his control. Indeed, he was, as Harold said, the devil they all knew. A relationship like that, however unorthodox, worked well as it did. Dominic, on the other hand, was an entirely unknown variable.

However, at this point, he simply wanted his suspicions confirmed or denied about the potential trouble facing the kids at his son's school. And he wanted that to happen without his pregnant partner knowing a damn thing about it.

But one thing he had learned in all the time he'd been involved with her, both personally and professionally, is that he should never take her detective skills for granted. For while he was in his reverie, Aaron giggled, pointed, and called out: "Mah-meeee" repeatedly. When he looked over at the direction Aaron was pointing, he saw Joss at the fireplace with Shaw, and he knew she was trying to weasel something out of her, because she kept looking at him while she was talking—and the expression on her face was akin to the one she always wore when she caught him and Harold at some operation that was wholly unorthodox, and more than likely illegal. She knew something was up—but she must have figured that she'd be more likely to get information out of Shaw.

"Mah-meeeee," Aaron continued. When Joss didn't quite walk up to them right away because she was still intently talking to Shaw, hand on her hip, while Shaw did her best to humorously deflect Joss' attitude, Aaron really began to get fussy for his mommy. His crying was the only thing that could seemingly stop her from needling Shaw. She slowly came over, her arms outstretched to her little boy.

"Come here, boo-boo. You being good for your daddy and Uncle Harold and Uncle Lionel? Yeah...that's my baby. If only you could talk better." she signed her motherly affections with a kiss to his forehead and cheek, before looking up at his father with a slight, accusatory pout.

"John. I wanna know what's going on, right now," she said softly yet menacingly.

"What? What do you mean? Nothing's going on. Just hanging out with Aaron." John said, shaking his head and moving from his perch near the dining room table casually to face her and the baby. Damn, she was beautiful, the pregnancy making her look so sweet and female, not that she didn't look that way without being pregnant. But as her belly continued to swell with their daughter, it seemed to have a slightly transformative effect on her. She was softer and more voluptuous at the same time. Her lips were fuller, her hips and backside more luscious, her breasts fuller and firmer. And she wore her hair in loose curls pinned back at times with a clip. It was the same when she was pregnant with Aaron. She was all woman. And he was honored to be her man.

At that moment, he wasn't feeling so honorable. She had been watching the meeting he'd been having with their former teammates, had seen the insular huddle they'd unconsciously erected for themselves. That was fine. But he refused to tell her anything, because he didn't want her getting upset and worried when she had the kids to worry about, most especially their unborn daughter. If she thought for a second that there was a reason for him to be concerned about Taylor's school environment due to gangs or organized crime, she'd spring right back into cop mode. And there was no way in hell he was going to let that happen, especially then.

"John! John Reese, don't lie to me. I know that look. I saw that look on your face plenty of times when I was working with you and Finch and Fusco on dangerous cases. Now, what are you up to? I want to know right now, John."

John clenched his jaw and focused his gaze on the hanging portrait of them, as a family, over her head. It had been taken when Aaron was six months old. "Nothing's going on, Joss. We were just talking about various happenings in the city, that's all. And our boys. Lionel and I are going to try to get Taylor and Lee to spend more time together. Ball games, hockey. That's it. Now, stop. For Chrissakes, it's Thanksgiving. Jesus, is this what it's going to be like anytime I talk to Finch or Lionel and Shaw, you thinking that I'm trying to get back on the streets again? I meant what I said, Joss. Not sure why you think I didn't." His jaw clinched once more as he actually found himself growing irritated at her line of questioning.

But Joss was no fool. She continued to press, to point her finger at him from one hand, while the other hand held her belly steady under her loose fitting red cotton dress. She kept her voice low, so as to not draw attention, but he heard her loud and clear.

"John, I know that's not all you were talking about. No, no, no, see, no, this is not happening. I know that look you get, John. It's the same look you had when we were about to close in on a perp. Man, I swear to God, if you try to go back out there to those damn numbers again, when you promised me and the kids you wouldn't, I'll-"

She didn't get to finish. John had stopped her rant mid-sentence by slowly stepping to her and closing the space between their bodies. He gifted her with a warm, soft kiss that nearly didn't happen all the way because Aaron decided at that moment to smack his daddy on top of his head. He ignored that and instead focused on Joss.

"Hey...hey, girl...stop. It wasn't anything, okay? Come here, come here. Listen, I love you, okay? Hmm? Now, quit it. It's Thanksgiving. Let's just focus on that, and how wonderfully blessed we've been this year, and will continue to be, hmm? Come on. How long until dinner, babe?"

Joss quieted down, as he'd requested, never really having been able to resist his charms since they'd known one another, let alone started a relationship. Had she been, he'd more than likely would have been in jail by then. But when he spoke to her like that, with his soothing voice, she let it go, whatever it was. At least for the time being.

"Okay," she says, looking up at him with her big brown eyes that he fell in love with over and over again every day. "Mom told me a little bit ago that the turkey is just about ready. She's been taking that on while I see to our guests."

"And needle Shaw," John said with a chuckle. He nuzzled her forehead with his lips. By that point, Aaron was chattering away again, and wiggling around in his mother's arms.

"I was just going to get him a snack, babe. Maybe one for myself. Getting hungry. And you know how much I love your turkey and stuffing."

"I left the box of banana puffs on the kitchen counter. And there's some cold cuts and cheese on a platter in the fridge for you if you want a quick sandwich."

"We have spicy mustard still?" he asked.

"Yes. On the side door there's a brand new bottle."

"Good. Okay, Aaron, you want some snack-snack?"

"'Nat-nat... nat-nat.." he said in reply.

"Sound like a yes to me, pal" his father said. He took Aaron back from her to head for the kitchen. Before going off, however, he pulled Joss in closer again. He wanted her to understand that it really was okay, even if he wasn't telling her what she wanted to know.

"You need anything? Want something from the kitchen?"

"No, I'm good. But Aaron should get a little to eat. Huh, boo-boo?"

"Okay. Come here." His expression was full of her as he kissed and nuzzled her again, open-eyed. She accepted his love and his explanation, because on both counts she had no choice.

"That's how you two got into this kid mess in the first place," a voice from behind her piped in, effectively ruining the intimate moment.

"We always know we can count on you, don't we, Shaw?" John said, as he and Aaron took their leave of both women. To her credit, Shaw had stopped eating grapes and had now graduated to the stuffed peppers from the large veggie platter Corrine had prepared that morning.

##

"Let us bow our heads, everyone. Even if you are not religious, it never hurts to take a moment for reflection, so that's what we'll do." Corinne said. As the eldest member of those gathered, she was charged with giving the blessing for the meal they were about to partake in. Nearly two hours after all the guests had arrived and the table had been set, all were now seated at John and Joss' dining room table. Aaron and Lissee, the two babies in the group, each had their high chairs set up near each other, and both babies were going to be allowed small portions of cut up turkey, along with their mashed potatoes, pureed peas, cranberry sauce and creamed corn. Each child's parents were trying to experiment with different foods to the infant jar as much as they were trying to include them in the holiday festivities. Since Aaron's teeth were coming in now like gangbusters, as had Lissee's, this was his chance to have a further crack at big-boy food. Lissee was a little bit older, and therefore further ahead on things—but Thanksgiving dinner was still new territory.

Aaron, for his part was thrilled that Lissee was joining them at dinner. He squealed and kicked in happiness in his high chair, and spent a goodly amount of time trying to reach out and grab her, but Joss put to a stop to that by moving him over slightly. She would do her best to keep both babies from sending their food to the floor.

When grace was done, John, as the male head of the family, had the job of carving the turkey. The year before, they'd missed having Thanksgiving dinner at home, as Joss had had an induced labor with Aaron, culminating in yet another C-section. They had come so far together. He said as much in a short speech before making the first cut, and there was hardly a fully dry eye in the house. Even the teenagers bowed their heads to keep from appearing uncool in the face of such a story.

"Come on, John. Cut that darn bird. I'm starving over here."

John turned to the seat where Shaw sat and jokingly pointed the carving knife at her, with a smirk and raised eyebrow. She in turn, in the spirit of his gesture, made the sign of the cross, which got everyone laughing, including her. The tension broken, John cut the bird and began to serve, while platters and bowls were passed and glasses clinked in good cheer.

Thanksgiving at the Carter-Reese household was just the beginning. They had so many more blessings to come their way.

 **A/N: You can't take the vigilante out of the boy completely. Smooth move, John, trying to throw Joss off your back when she knows you're possibly up to something. Shaw continues to have little class, but oh well, what can you do?**

 **In other moments, that Aaron is such a brat. Cute, but a little brat. John's gonna get enough of his son smacking him upside the head when he feels like it, hahahaha!**

 **Nice moments in the beginning between Joss and Taylor. That first born bond will always be there, no matter how many other kids Joss has.**

 **Next up, the baby shower/Aaron's birthday and onward to Christmas. Follow up chap or chaps will see a return of a little smut for those of you who dig that sort of thing (me included). How much of a real threat Brotherhood may or may not pose to Taylor and his schoolmates remains to be seen. Many possibilities.**

 **Well, hope this was fun. Stay tuned!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: We have reached a milestone in this story that I said was done a while back, haha: Aaron's first birthday! The activity at the Carter-Reese household will continue to be on high speed during Thanksgiving weekend, as he has his party to get through, and his parents have a baby shower for Joss on the same date. All his little friends from the neighborhood (of varying ages between 0-6 years, including Lissee and her brother) and their parents will attend, as well as Gramma Corinne. Taylor's pal Curtis and his boys might even make an appearance, as well as the young miss Taylor has his eye on from school. And even though Aaron is the birthday boy, he will be the one to have a special surprise for all of them!**

 **As usual, thank you for reading and for being so patient. It is always appreciated!**

"John, baby, did you find the cookie sheets I wanted to use from the lower pantry?" Joss called from the kitchen.

"Umm, yeah, " John replied from the living room. "I left them on the dining room table. Did I get enough eggs and butter?"

"Oh, yes, plenty. I have all the ingredients for the cookies now, and the appetizers are ready on trays in the fridge, including the carrot sticks, cheese cubes, apple slices, and chicken nuggets for the older kids and the little ones with teeth. Let's see, what else? Juice boxes, veggie platter for the adults, dip, chips, finger sandwiches, milk, tater tots—everything else is on point. Only things we'll need to cross our fingers on are the two cakes Mom's bringing."

John hummed in happy memory before calling back to her. "Your mom's coconut chocolate cake is fabulous. I can't wait."

Joss walked into the living room to find John on the step ladder, stringing up streamers and colorful birthday banners for their special little boy on his big day. She smiled in reverie at how far they had all come. Exactly one year to that day, Joss was in induced labor at New York Women and Children's for a Cesarean section, just as she had had for Taylor, and which she would more than likely have for the new baby as well. Much of what she remembered was the ceiling lights, and they way the beams played off her eyes, shapes and colors working their way around her vision.

And there was also John, he of the first time fatherhood, who played it cool as much as he could while the procedure took place, wiping Joss' brow and speaking soft, soothing words of love and encouragement—until Aaron emerged from her belly, and he saw his son, heard him, for the very first time. Suddenly, all the control was gone, the emergence of this child into the world-real, tangible- instantly changing his life. A side of him Joss rarely got to see, he wept and broke a sob as he got to be the first to hold his baby boy in his arms.

He was the first to speak to Aaron, the first to connect, outside the womb. And from that point on, Joss knew that her son and his father would have a bond that, even when he wasn't there, was deep and sustaining, and that it was on a different level to the one she had with him. It was more than the fact that he was the near spitting image of his daddy; that first contact was as vital to Aaron's sense of himself as any life-giving milk from her breasts had been. John had let his son know from the beginning that he had a hero in his life, someone who, along with his mother, would protect him from any and all fears and threats, would love him and keep him safe. In Aaron, John had been given his second chance at a lifeline not linked to the military, espionage, the numbers. He wasn't going to blow it. No, he most certainly wasn't.

And, of course, at the blessed celebration of his first year of life, they would also be celebrating the arrival, in the next few months, of his baby sister. For they had decided to combine the event of Aaron's birthday and Joss' baby shower all in one, with Aaron's party happening after his nap, and the shower happening while he slept for the night. Niecey, Joss' friend from three houses down, made the arrangements, and while she would have booked a small hall for the occasion otherwise, Dr. Tillman's orders for little stress put the quash on those plans. So, it was now to be at their house, which was fine with everyone involved. Guests had a choice of either Aaron's party or the shower, or both. Considering that a good number of the partygoers were all around his age, and would therefore probably be pooped out after a couple hours of snacks, cake, and free run of the living room for play, a number of couples actually did opt for just the baby party. Joss and John fully understood.

"Oh, wow, John!" she quietly exclaimed. "The living room looks great so far. Who knew the bad ass in the suit had a party thrower's touch?"

John turned to her and smiled smugly. "I had some pointers. Pintrest is a man's best friend when it comes to stuff like this. But I'm glad it passes muster. Anything for our good little boy on his first birthday."

"Yes. Oh, I think he'll be so happy, John. Granted, he won't get much about what's going on, but the kids will be here, and he'll love having them to play with. Even Curtis and them will be here."

John stopped hanging a few balloons in his hand and turned back to her, wrinkling his nose. "Curtis and Joey and that bunch? They're not exactly the baby party type."

"They are if they want free snacks," Joss grinned. "But it's not just the usual crew. Apparently, _Destiny_ will also be dropping in. And I'd be very interested in meeting her, at last. All my son does is talk about her nowadays, so yeah, I want to know about that."

Destiny was the girl in Taylor's math class that he admitted to having a crush on. Apparently, Destiny was aware of the crush, and it seemed as if she was checking him out to see if there was anything to it. Joss wasn't so sure she wanted her to find out. But Taylor had his heart set on this girl, and she promised herself she wouldn't be his meddling mama, embarrassing him in the process. Besides, she trusted her eldest child and his judgment, so if Destiny was worth it to him, she would go with that.

But still, she wanted a chance to meet her. Who knew? She could be someone really special in the long run.

John, knowing where her mind was, decided not to aid any potential flame to that fire. He had met Destiny, and she seemed to him a very cute, levelheaded girl, very much like Joss, in fact—but he didn't feel like playing middleman to a teenage boy and his mother over girl issues. Sometimes, it was just better to stick with the red wagons and giant Duplo blocks.

As it was, Taylor was out and about with Destiny, Curtis—and Aaron. Big brother decided to check out the after-Thanksgiving sales at the Brooklyn Galleria, and also decided to take Aaron along too. It was a chilly, brisk day, just a week after winter started, so the kids all took the MTA Bus to keep warm, while Aaron was nice and snug in his Seattle Seahawks snowsuit, hat, gloves, and blanket. Taylor also brought his stroller, as he knew he wouldn't want to carry Aaron all over the place, the bulky snowsuit adding to his baby weight. And since he wasn't quite walking yet, it was either the stroller or sore arms. It was a rare occasion that Taylor took his little brother out for the day, save for a quick swing trip to the park in good weather, so when it happened, even Aaron had a look of surprised joy when he got put in the buggy and big brother was the one treating him to fun.

John was, however, determined to encourage more of that kind of activity, especially once the new baby was born. They'd need all hands on deck then, and the extra presence of their older sibling would certainly be of great benefit to both babies. Luckily for all of them, Taylor loved spending time with the little ones, and Aaron certainly adored him through and through. In fact, he was just about at the point in his vocabulary and communication development where "Yay'o" was pretty much cleared to mean "Taylor."

The boys and Curtis met Destiny at the Galleria. Joss hadn't known if that was by design or not, but again, she was okay with Taylor spreading his wings a little. He was sixteen, and it was inevitable that his eye would turn towards girls at some point in his life. Her first baby was growing up into a young man just as she was about to bring a new baby into the world, not long after the one before her. Life sure had its funny ways, she thought. But they were wonderful ways. Considering all she and John and Taylor had been through, she knew she'd gotten a hell of a better deal than a lot of other women in this world. Taylor's happiness was all she could hope for, so long as he was safe and making good choices. And since he was her son, that was pretty much a given.

Joss took the cookie sheets from the table to return to the kitchen, but not before giving John an encouraging caress to his leg from the ladder. He returned her gaze, and smiled. "Almost done," he said.

"It looks great, John. But be careful, though. One wrong step..."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world, Joss. Our little boy won't turn one year old every day, you know."

A steady kick in her belly told her that their little daughter seemed to agree with him, and that she was just as ready as they all were to help her big brother celebrate in her own way. It was going to be a great day.

##

"Ma, Pop, we're back," a booming, ever-deeper voice announced through the back door entrance of the brownstone. Though rarely used as an entrance for the family, Taylor figured it be a better idea than to go through the living room, so as not to get Aaron curious—and destructive—around the party decorations. Then again, Aaron was fast asleep, snug as a bug still in his stroller, though the chill of the November air did turn his little cheeks ruddy red.

Taylor had his hands full with bags, the allowance he got from both his father and John proving rather lucrative. Most of his loot was indeed for him, but a few items were for Aaron's birthday, as well as one yellow daisy pajama set for his baby sister and a set of matching booties. And he wasn't alone. He had brought Curtis with him—and a pretty brown skinned young lady who was about his age. Destiny had been glad to come into the house away from the cold.

John was the first to enter the kitchen. "Hi, T. How it'd all go? Curtis, good to see you. And you too, Destiny.."

"Hi, Mr. Reese," both of Taylor's friends said in unison.

"Hey, Pop," Taylor replied. "Oh, my God, it's so cold out! But everything was fine. Aaron is in love with Destiny now, so that made my job easier," he said, with an air of nonchalant silliness. Destiny laughed in kind.

"Oh, was he good for you, then? I hope so," John asked, smiling warmly at Destiny, and walking over to more fully join in the conversation.

"Yes, he was an angel," Destiny replied. "I don't know what Taylor's talking about when he says Aaron acts up so much. He was just fine with me. He didn't even cry once, just smiled and pointed at stuff a lot. He just looked around at all the lights and Christmas decorations and the people. And he drank all his milk and apple juice, plus ate some of his fingersnacks."

"You wait till he gets to know you," Taylor scoffed. "He'll be throwin' those bottles at you after a while."

"Hey, it's your little brother's birthday. Cut him some slack," John teased.

"He never cuts me any!" Taylor laughed. "But he was good. We had pizza and everything. Oh, but he might have done a poop in his diaper, like a while ago, Pop. There was nowhere for me to change him. I just smell the foul," he said, laughing again.

"Taylor..." John was going to began, with a reprimand about letting Aaron stay in a messy diaper, but he thought better of it. He didn't want to embarrass him in front of Destiny, and it wasn't always easy to find a good place at the mall for changing if you were a male with a baby. "It's okay, son. I'll get him out of the stroller and get him changed while he naps upstairs. You guys, come on in. If you want anything to eat or drink, help yourself to anything except the trays in there. Those are for the parties tonight. Taylor, carve some turkey and make a few sandwiches. We need to finish off those Thanksgiving leftovers."

He got Aaron unbuckled and picked him up out of the stroller. Aaron, for his part, groaned in his sleep, but did not waken. And he had indeed left an unmistakable gift in his diaper. It might make sense to wake him now and get him his bath at that point, since he needed changing, though John knew it was better for Aaron to get in all his rest for later on. Didn't want the man of honor to be too wiped out for all the fun.

"Okay, Pop. You want anything?"

"No, your mom and I had lunch already. She's upstairs resting before all the excitement happens," he said while departing up the steps himself with the sleeping baby.

Suddenly, Destiny bolted with Aaron's diaper bag from the baby buggy, in a quick leap and sprint after John. "Mr. Reese, wait! Aaron's things. Do you need them?"

John stopped at the landing before the first step. "He has stuff in his nursery, Destiny, but thank you. You can just leave them here at the stairs and I'll get them later."

"Okay," she said, seemingly a bit crestfallen, but doing as instructed. "Can I give him a kiss before he goes down?"

John smiled. Perhaps that love feeling Taylor spoke of between Aaron and Destiny was mutual. "Sure, of course you can," he said. The spark lit back in her eyes, she came over and planted the lightest kiss on his little nose, and gently stroked his now tousled hair, which had lost its hat in the stroller.

"Have a good nap, Aaron, sweetie," she said softly. "You are just adorable. Happy birthday."

John grinned at the young girl's sweetness. In his mind, Joss didn't have anything to worry about. And hey, they might have just found themselves another great babysitter.

Once John and Aaron had disappeared upstairs, Taylor and Curtis had begun making plates for themselves. Taylor called to Destiny to see if she wanted anything, but the young girl was content to just have a soft drink while they dug into the leftovers from Thanksgiving. In fact, she was even more content to go on a short tour of the living room.

Photos of the family dotted the mantle piece and the walls: photos of Taylor as a baby, then as a preschooler, school age, and most recently, his high school class pictures; photos of Joss in her academy uniform; photos of her mother and father; photos of Aaron as a newborn, then all the stages of his growth up to that point; there were also family portraits of John, Joss, and the boys in various states of family time. In them they were always moving, always smiling, forever the loving clan. The love was infectious.

She smiled. Taylor was lucky. He was so lucky. And she was glad they had become connected. He had told her that he had a baby brother, and that his mom was pregnant again when they had lunch wave chat a few weeks before, which was an even brighter feather in Taylor's cap, seeing how much she loved babies, and wanted to be a teacher of young children after she finished school.

They were a happy, wonderful family. She could tell from Taylor's way about him, and the way he talked about his parents, even if she hadn't met his mom yet. From what she knew, Ms. Carter and Mr. Reese were both really cool.

Spending time at Taylor's house that holiday weekend. She'd be sure to remember to give thanks for that particular blessing.

##

Once Aaron was refreshed from his nap, some two hours after getting home from the mall, Joss had awakened from her own nap and came into his nursery. He had been busy playing fairly quietly by himself with some soft blocks and his favorite stack toys. Upon seeing his mommy, he cooed to her, and pulled himself up on the crib ledge to see her better.

"Hey, boo-nut," she said. "Somebody's having a birthday today, huh? That's right!"

She soon got supplies ready for his his birthday bath in his little tub, which would soon be passed down to his baby sister, as he was getting a little too big for it, and would probably switch over to the tub in the bathroom from then on. As was customary, a bath made him feel good, and so he splashed and squealed and cooed his way to cleanliness. Joss sang 'happy birthday' to him and he squealed and shouted some more in response. Yes, a nap and a bath always did the trick, so his mommy knew he'd have a wonderful time at the party.

After getting dried off, moisturized, and diaper creamed, she got him dressed in a little pair of brown corduroy dress pants and a white dress shirt, complete with a little bow tie sewn in at the top. To round out his outfit, he wore a pair of black dress baby socks and a new pair of blue and white Nike Air Jordans, a suggestion of Taylor's. They fit him perfectly, and were pretty sporty, so John agreed to buy them. And they went perfectly with what he was wearing.

"My little man is the most handsome little man in the whole world," Joss grinned as she continued to get him dressed. "Huh, boo-nut? You are so handsome. Happy birthday, baby. Mommy loves you."

In reply, Aaron treated his mommy to a spitball, before the saliva dribbled down his chin. Luckily, his Spiderman bib was close at hand.

"I'll be glad when all these little teeth of yours come in. And I'm sure you'll be glad too. More food to try!" She laughed at him trying to wriggle away from her as he would do, scooping him finally to sit down in the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery, with the brush and oil set to fix his hair, which was damp and all over his little head. But as soon as he even saw the brush, he took the first steps to a minor fit. Joss groaned and shook her head in mock derision.

"Now, Aaron, why do you still do this with Mommy and not Daddy, huh? Be still, boy. I'm not hurting you—and you're not going down to your party lookin' crazy. Come here."

It was true. Even then, all John had to do was wave at him with a diaper, and Aaron was as compliant as anything. But her, he gave her the wiggles and kicks. And no, don't let her try to brush his hair.

"Meeeenoooooooo...mah-meeeee...noooooo...aaawoooooo...nooo..." he protested, raising his little hands and arms in revolt against the brush, his little face turning red, then purple, then red again. She wasn't sure why. Aaron had his father's hair already, a full head of it, and there was much she could do with it, if he'd only let her without fussing. And she tried to make sure that he didn't have tangles while he slept, now that it was getting longer day by day. But no, he wouldn't hear of it unless she fought him to sit still for two minutes so as to just put a a drop or two of baby oil in and brush through it. Taylor, who had much kinkier hair, didn't give her as much fuss when she'd use the afro pick on him, or put braids in when he was that age. Was Aaron that tender headed?

But as usual, even with his tantrums, Joss prevailed and got his hair in some semblance of his father's trademark coif, and if there had ever been any mistaking his paternity, there could have been none at that moment. His light brown eyes were coming along more hazel-like now, and that only made him more the image of John. Her gorgeous little boy and her gorgeous man. Wonderful together.

"There, there, Aaron, all done. Mommy's all done. Let me see," she said, standing him up on her thighs after the hair ordeal. He was now quiet again, his vision fixed on the window, then the blue teddy bear on his clothes dresser, then the mobile over his crib.

"You ready for your party? Look at my baby, so fine in his good clothes! Yes! One year old today, and we're going to have cake and ice cream, and other treats, just for you. Best birthday boy, ever!" She kissed his warm little face, now back to its usual color, though his eyes remained watery, and he still had a few weepy hiccups to let go of. But he fully quieted down eventually, and soon stuck his fingers in his mouth.

At that moment, Joss felt a movement in her belly, and she smiled. Her little girl was now kicking up a fuss of her own, and with one arm she held Aaron so as to rub her protruding tummy. She was a lively one, too, passing up strong kicks, a few of them doubled for good measure.

"John!" she called from the bedroom. "John, come here, quick!"

It took John two seconds to get upstairs. "What, honey? What is it? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Better than fine!"

John looked at her curiously.

"I'm sorry," she said, understanding his expression. "It's the baby. She's kicking again. Here, take a feel."

John's face brightened when he realized nothing was wrong. Slowly sauntering over to her, he extended his hand to her belly, while Aaron continued to coo with his fingers in his mouth.

"Wow, she's got a good set of legs on her!" he said, laughing. "We got Aaron for basketball, no sweat—but this little one is our family footballer, no kiddin'.

"Well, let's get her born first before you start mapping out her sports career, John." she said with a grin.

"Hmm, maybe you're right. I just can't wait to meet our princess. Meanwhile," he said, poking Aaron in the tummy, "everything downstairs is just about ready for this little guy right here. Hey, Aaron, big party, pal. I think you're looking pretty good. We all set?"

"Say 'yes, Daddy. I'm dressed and brushed and ready to get these duds I'm in all dirty with cake and ice cream.' How are the kids down there?"

"Great," John said, taking his camera phone out for some photos. "You should get a chance to meet Destiny. Boy, Taylor's got it bad."

"Don't remind me," she said with a smirk.

"Aaron? Aaron, look at Daddy," John said to the boy, trying to get him to smile for a few pictures. At first, Aaron couldn't be bothered, but by the fourth or fifth flash of the camera, his attention was suitably caught, and he indeed delivered some of the biggest first birthday smiles a boy could give.

Within the next thirty minutes, the first guests had arrived, the Mendozas from down the block. Their son, Raul, was one of Aaron's buddies from the summer sandbox. Lissee and her family arrived a few minutes after them. Within the hour, all the babies and their parents had arrived and soon John and Joss' living room had been turned into a large nursery, where they all played, laughed, tumbled, crawled, waddled, listened to songs sung by the adults, played with instruments and other toys, cried, squealed, nursed, and enjoyed snacks on the large blanket covering the carpet.

While watching all the wonderful chaos unfold, Taylor motioned over to Joss.

"Ma, this is Destiny. Destiny, my mother."

"Hello, Mrs. Carter. It's so nice to meet you finally," Destiny said, rather bashfully.

Joss turned to the young lady who had seemingly captured her son's affections, and despite her chagrin about her son wading into the high school dating pool, she warmed to the girl immediately. From her detective days, Joss gained the skill of being able to read people well on first meeting, and here was no exception. Destiny appeared sweet and cheerful, maybe a little shy. And physically, she was just the knid of girl Taylor liked. Little wonder she had caught his eye.

"Hi, Destiny. Welcome to crazy," she said laughing, which she hoped would help the girl feel more at ease. Her own easy going giggle signaled that Joss had done the trick.

"No, it's great," Destiny said. "I love babies. After school is over, I'm thinking about majoring in child development or teaching when I go to college. I haven't really decided yet, but I know I want to work with kids somehow."

"Well, if you want to get in some practice by pitching in and giving a hand, you are more than welcome, baby," Joss said, touching her arm gently.

"With Aaron? Oh, I'd love to. He's so cute!"

"Yeah, Ma, Aaron loves him some Destiny," Taylor quipped. "He acted better for her than for me at the mall today. And she helped John set up all the little homemade activity areas he saw on Pintrest for the kids here. "

"Oh, really?" Joss' eyebrow arched up. "I'll keep that in mind. Ever done any babysitting, Destiny?"

"Yes. I was a part-time babysitter over the summer. Some of the rich families on the Upper East Side that my uncle knows. That was fun. A lot of work, but fun. If you want, I could sit for Aaron some time."

"Ooh, study dates! We cram for trig, you change Aaron's diapers. A win-win!" Taylor chimed in.

Destiny laughed. "I guess so, Taylor."

"Well, here, let me have your number and if a need comes up, I can get in touch with your parents and we can chat, okay?"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Carter."

So the information exchange took place and Destiny couldn't have been happier at that moment. Taylor either, for that matter. And Joss, knowing how irrational her concerns of a teenaged girl were intellectually before she met her, completely banished those fears once she had met her. That didn't happen with everyone, of course, as her training had taught her to be cautious. She didn't think she'd been off the mark though.

Aaron was busy near the couch at the window—that had been moved to give the children play space—pulling up on his father's leg to stand, which he could now do without holding on. They thought he might have been ready to take the tentative steps to walking that week, but he still wasn't sure enough of himself to let go on his own. John looked down at him, but then spied another one of the babies that was now crawling behind his feet to investigate a fake fern pot nearby. He watched for a moment, amused, and then dropped to pick the little baby girl up. Luckily, she wasn't too spooked by the man who was not her father suddenly lifting her, and he carefully held her in his arms, her chubby cheeks instantly making him smile. It was Donna Lee, the second child of the Kramers, another new family on their block. Dressed in a dark blue suspender dress and red tights, she was just learning how to crawl at five months, but had managed to hold her own pretty well against Aaron and some of the other seasoned crawlers—provided she didn't go too far.

"Oh well, hello, Donna Lee," he said softly. "How are you? What a sweetie you are...oh, my goodness. You're having a nice time, aren't you, honey? You know, we're going to have a little sweet girl just like you, very soon. Very soon..." With her red hair, she reminded him of Leila. He thought fondly of her and smiled before cradling Donna Lee and giving her a little rock in his arms.

After a few moments of getting acquainted, Aaron's taps, grabs, and mini head butts to his leg reminded him that his dance card was already full. He kissed little Donna Lee on her chubby cheek and gave her a gentle rub on her back, inhaling her baby scent and nuzzling her soft red curls before gently putting her back down on the blanket. Aaron, for his part, let go of Daddy's leg to stand independently, and even managed to wave at Donna Lee before looking up at John wide-eyed while putting his fingers in his mouth.

When Donna Lee began to crawl away, Aaron's body turned slightly to watch her, and John thought that might be the moment—the moment where he'd forget his caution to take his first steps behind her. But, he didn't. In fact, he clutched on to John's leg again, while he continued to be intrigued by little Donna Lee and her adventures in motion.

"It's okay, son, " John said, with a knowing smile. "You'll get there. Any day now."

In response, Aaron rubbed his little nose on his daddy's knee and sneezed, while still holding on like a koala in a tree.

##

After an hour or so of free play and yummy snacks, it was time to light the candle on Aaron's cake. Everyone, including the birthday boy, got a pointed party hat and a noisemaker for the occasion. Corinne, a whiz at cake decorating, made one of the two cakes she baked a large chocolate sheet cake with white chocolate frosting, decked out with a basketball and football design that crouched the words, "Happy First Birthday, Aaron!" in blue lettering, with a cool blue frosting border all around. Joss provided the 'number 1' candle for the middle, and all in attendance gathered round Aaron's high chair, where he had been placed as the little man of honor.

Taylor and Destiny, along with Curtis, Joey, and Joey's girlfriend Andrea, were also gathered, and though they were the cool teens on the scene, of course, they were just as happy as anyone to have been there for little Aaron. He was Taylor's baby brother—but they all loved Aaron's antics as much as anyone. In truth, being around him made them more careful in their own behavior, never wanting to do or say anything that would be a bad influence on him. And they were the first ones to break into song when it came time to sing happy birthday.

Joss and John posed for pictures with their son, all smiles, along with Taylor and Grandma Corinne, before, during and after the cake was cut. Aaron, of course, got the first piece, and while some of the attention was a little overwhelming, he was very happy that everyone had been singing and calling his name for some reason. He also enjoyed being able to dip his fingers into the cake and frosting before making an attempt at getting it in his mouth. Joss once again thanked the good lord for Spiderman bibs.

Before long, all the babies and other guests had had cake. A number of the adults remarked on how rich and delicious it was, and some even asked Corinne if she were in the business. "I could be, if enough people wanted me to be," she replied with an eye roll and a smirk. Corinne was a woman of many talents. Cake baking was just another notch on her list.

More photos were taken, mostly of Aaron shoving chocolate cake in his mouth and smearing it over his nose and cheeks, the other babies following suit. There were also pictures of the teens posing behind Aaron, who raised his hands with a toothless, gooey smile, and one really nice one of John giving Aaron a kiss on his gooey mouth before kissing Joss, goo and all. And yet another of a smoochy John yet again kissing Joss, this time while holding his hand over her ever growing belly. The more John was able to have moments like these with his family, the more enamoured he became with them. He'd always known that being a family man was a desire deep in his soul, but the Army and CIA had made him almost forget that desire, as he did things in the name of his profession that made no room for this. Yes, he'd almost forgotten how much he'd always wanted this. Almost. It was simply something he dared not let get the best of him.

"I love you, baby," he whispered to Joss over the din. "Happy birthday."

"You too, John. You too," she replied while gazing into his eyes.

The "awws" from the adult guests, even if they couldn't hear what had been said, demonstrated that it wasn't necessary to hear. All one had to do was look at them to know how real it all was.

##

With cleaned hands and faces, the families all corraled their children for one last activity of the ocassion, before the event needed to switch gears and turn from the baby birthday to the baby shower: the opening of Aaron's presents. Having been born so close to Christmas time had its advantages for the boy for sure, as he would most certainly benefit from being on the receiving end of extra loot. Everyone gathered on the carpet with their children, as the pile of gifts, wrapped in all kinds of colorful paper or ensconsed in whimsical gift bags, were brought over to Aaron as he sat on his mother's lap on the couch near the window. John assisted Aaron with tearing off the paper—which was probably some of the best fun their little guy had had up to that point.

"Oooh, Aaron, look!" John coaxed when a big box wrapped in ducky paper revealed a new train set. "Isn't that cool? Daddy might have fun playing with this," he laughed.

"Naaaaa...naaaa!" Aaron exclaimed in joy, while banging on the train's box and holding onto some of the wrapping for examination. A sure sign of approval.

Other presents awaited him, including a new winter hat and mitten set, a toddler art set, and even savings bonds from Harold, who, because of the numbers, could not attend the party, as was true for Shaw and Lionel—though Lionel did plan to attend the shower later that evening.

One of the last gifts, however, came from Taylor, who had gotten it before their mall trip. It was full-sized Wilson basketball, and Aaron was beside himself in smiles when he got his hands on it, banging away even more than on the train set. Joss and some of the other guests laughed.

"Taylor, what were you thinking about when you got him this ball? He's too small to get his hands on it now."

"Aw, Ma, he'll be all right," Taylor replied. "Huh, Aaron? He's been watching me play so much, now that he's a year old, I'll bet he's a natural. Wants to get out of the carriage and join in. Watch."

At that point, Taylor took the ball and held it in front of his little brother, who indeed took to it like a fish to water. After a few seconds of being mesmerized by Taylor's slow dribbles on the blanket, he smiled slowly, and motioned to scoot off John's lap just enough to slide down on his feet, between his legs.

"You got your Jordans on, Aaron. Come on," Taylor coaxed as he continued to dribble. Aaron raised his hand as if to reach for the ball.

"Come on, Aaron. Come get it."

Aaron shouted, clapped, and babbled, before shouting again, laughing, and bouncing up and down in excitement. John, seeing where this might go, opened up a little more space for Aaron, carefully watching the scene.

Taylor continued the slow dribble, while Aaron watched the ball's every move. Soon, Curtis stepped in to 'challenge' Taylor, and there was light one-on-one game taking place on the blanket, each player focused on Aaron and his reactions.

Suddenly, the ball got away from both of them, rolling slightly behind Taylor. And at that moment, a miracle happened. While all the other children in attendance were also captivated by the ball, it was Aaron who tentatively put one foot in front of the other and moved slowly away from the safety of his father's legs, taking wobbly but sure steps in the direction of the ball. His parents and grandmother sat, wide-eyed and open mouthed, stunned at what they were witnessing, while all the guests who could broke into applause.

"Come on, Aaron!" Taylor encouraged further. "There you go! Get the ball, Aaron!"

And sure enough, Aaron did just that, even though it was indeed too big for him to pick up at that point. But he got his hands on it. And he did so on the other side of the living room from where his parents were. Though he soon collapsed on his bottom where he'd stood, the turning point in his little life, his world, had now changed forever.

John leaped up from his seat on the sofa and went after his boy, admist the din of the guests who were all excited by having witnessed Aaron taking his first steps. Before getting to the wee man of the hour, though, he clutched Taylor in a quick hug, with a whisper of thanks for such an inspiring gift to his little brother.

But there was no mistaking who John's heart was bursting apart for.

"There's my big guy! There's my big little guy! Come here! Come here, baby!" John exclaimed while lifting him up and covering him with kisses. "Oh, my God, you did it! You did it, Aaron! Happy birthday, son. I love you so much." The room broke out into applause again as he repeated those last words over and over.

And when he brought him over to his mother and grandma for more love, there were tears in his eyes. Tears of joy that he found he shed quite a bit in those days since becoming a father. It all just kept getting better and better. And he thanked God every day for giving him that second chance, for not letting him go through with his plans that night on the bridge, when he'd thought there was nothing to live for.

He thanked God for Joss. From the moment he'd met her, the two of them had worked together to make all things possible for John. And for the rest of his life, he'd spend every day letting them know how grateful he was—in whatever ways that needed to happen.

 **A/N: The shower will come next chapter, as Lionel will be there, and despite John's all-in attitude at home, the pull and tug of vigilante life may have to rear its ugly head again, if they get a chance to talk shop out of ear shot (but Joss knows whenever Team Machine members show up, John gets that look in his eye, so she may her own ears against the wall). There may even be a little smut in the works, not sure (woo hoo, haha!), and we'll get ourselves to Christmas, where a curious little baby will have to be kept in serious check near a tree full of lights and all other temptations—especially now that he's walking! The first steps part was fun to write, because I could see JC/John Reese doing the excited daddy thing so clearly (and wouldn't be Taylor and his basketball skills to make it happen? This is a family of men down with their b-ball after all!), as well as the way Aaron defers to John's authority over his mother's when it comes to grooming, haha ("I'm not hurting you. Come here, boy.")! Poor Joss. Perhaps she'll get a breather from all the testorerone in the house when the baby girl is born. We'll see!**

 **Hey, thanks for reading, as usual—and stay tuned!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Baby showers and bedroom convos. Joys and challenges for the Carter-Reese family. Thanks for the continued indulgence, and happy holidays!**

Aaron was so pooped out by his birthday party that he didn't even try to put up a fuss when John had him sit with him on the couch. Now that he'd gotten his newfound walking papers, his daddy would have thought it wise to corral him a little bit, even though all the guests from his party had mostly dispersed. The plan had been to put him down once his peers had finally departed the house with their parents, their own sleep schedules and routines taking priority. The only baby who hung around afterward was Lissee, as Mabel and Fred were sticking around for the shower, or what Taylor called 'the grownup party.' But Aaron had had such a wonderful day of friends, play, presents and cake, that he eventually just lay his head down and fell asleep on the couch all by himself, not long after getting involved in a task of mouthing one of his new toys. John, ever the sympathetic father, gently pulled off the baby Nikes he still wore, and let him stay there a while, before he scooped up his little guy and brought him upstairs for a good long night-night. The sneakers rested on the coffee table, next to one of his favorite binkies, and a half squished party hat.

Taylor, too, was in attendence at the shower off and on, as was Destiny, who got permission to stay a little longer from her parents. Joss had insisted she call them to make sure it was okay for her to do so. Curtis and the rest of the crew had to take off for other things, but that by no means meant a diminishment of the festivities. For members of Team Machine, along with Bear, soon swung by, laden with gifts and small parcels of food and drink. Joss had insisted that they didn't need to bring anything much, but neither Lionel nor Harold listened to that. It was only Shaw who decided to go a bit modest, carrying a small gift for Aaron, and yet another small gift for the impending baby.

Corrine also remained, of course, helping to tidy up after all the happy madness of Aaron's birthday. A few more guests, who had not been able to make both engagements, made sure to come along for the shower. Aaron even got a few more presents, ones that Joss and John both were thankful for, and that they promised to Aaron in the morning.

About an hour after Aaron's bedtime, more guests had arrived for Joss' shower, including some of the guys at the 8th like Detective Syzmanski from Narcotics, Detective Dani Silva, a rookie when Joss was about to retire, who was now making her way through the ranks of Vice, and others. Syzmanski jokingly griped about babies not being his thing, but Silva had made him come with her, so there he was. But in all seriousness, he was happy to get a chance to see his old pal and comrade and trade war stories about the big bad old days of HR.

John pulled Joss into a hug and nuzzle to her temple. "You doin' okay?" he asked softly. "We're not overdoing it or anything, are we?"

"No, John. Everything's been wonderful. Aaron walking, all our friends here to celebrate our joy. I couldn't be in a better place!"

"Good. So long as you're okay. If you get tired at any time, you just give the signal, all right? Everybody will get lost."

Joss laughed. "Jesus, John. Whatever would I do without you?"

"You're never going to have to find out, Carter. I'm here for the duration. Forever, babe."

John's particular endearment for her never failed to tickle her funny bone. He vacillated between "baby" and "babe" without even blinking, though lately he had been more partial to "babe" than anything. She kissed him then, wordlessly reaffirming the deal on a promise of which she had absolutely no doubt in.

##

"Oooh, Mrs. Carter! How beautiful!" It was Destiny who exclaimed what a wonder the knit blanket for the new baby was. It was a soft white cotton yarn knit, embroidered in gold trim with a silk border. It was exquisite, and it had been made by Alma Miller, one of the PTA parents from the neighborhood, who had known Joss and Taylor since the pair had moved to the brownstone and Taylor was a second grader at PS 39.

"I know...Alma, oh my God, girl...this is incredible! You outdid yourself this time," she gasped, stunned that so much love and generostiy had been bestowed upon her and her children. The blanket was simply gorgeous, and it was similar to the one she had gotten for Aaron, though his had been a light blue color, with a looped embroidery pattern.

"Well, chile, you keep on havin' babies, I guess I'll have to, huh?"

"Oh, I think that's a good idea," John piped in.

"You would," Alma shot back good humoredly. "You ain't the one gotta birth them babies, John."

The whole room erupted in laughter, even Harold. John blushed, and waved his hands up, with a sheepish, guilty-as-charged smile.

"No argument there," he said, before handing Joss another parcel to open. Parent humor. Still something, among many things in his life, he was getting used to.

More gifts came for Joss and the baby, in between light dinner fare and non-alcoholic drinks. Because Aaron's birthday prep had taken such a good deal of work, much of the balloons, streamers and other decorations remained, while the floor and carpeting had been cleared of baby toys, party hats, and other remnants from the earlier party.

There were new baby booties, socks, onesies, bibs, new nursing bottles, packs and packs of diapers, which both parents were grateful for, an infant swing from Corinne, crib sheets, mobiles, and at least two sets of bath and lotion packs, among other items the new baby would need. Joss had been planning on recycling much of Aaron's old things for the baby, even if she was to be a girl, but many of the gifts were still a godsend. They and their little girl were truly blessed to have such a support system as they did.

Lionel and Shaw pitched in together to get the baby a new high chair. It was still in the box, which meant assembly, but John had put together Aaron's chair without too much trouble. Joss and John were both pleased, as Aaron wouldn't be able to share his with his sister, since he was still using his own high chair.

"Hey, I remember when Lee was in the high chair," Lionel said, warmly. "One less thing you have to worry about, partner."

John smiled warmly at his old friend. "Thanks, Lionel. We appreciate this. Really."

"What? What am I, chopped liver? We went in on it together," Shaw piped in.

John rolled his eyes, while Joss laughed.

"Yes, Shaw," he said. "Thank you, too. Perhaps some day we can return the favor?"

"Who, me? No way. I ain't havin' no kids. Can't stand kids. Except Taylor. And Aaron. They're...okay, I guess."

"Thank you, Shaw. That means a lot coming from you," John teased. Lionel could barely contain himself.

As the shower went on, one of the most generous gifts came from Harold. Towards the end of the festivities, he handed Joss an envelope. She eyed him a bit, wondering what could have been in it that it needed to be sealed as it had been. Inside, she found a card where he offered his heartfelt congratulations and best wishes. But along with the card came an official looking license of some kind. When Joss looked closer, she found that it was, in fact, a certificate. A stock certificate, already worth quite a bit of money, and which, if it continued to turn a profit, well worth quite a bit more.

When she looked up at him, open mouthed and wide-eyed, he shrugged off her expression. "Growing babies don't stay babies forever, Detective. That's just a little insurance policy for when that time goes when they do grow up."

"Finch...I can't...we can't take this...it's far too generous..."

"Nonsense, Detective. I insist. In fact, both John and I insist."

She looked at John. "You knew about this?"

"Well, yeah, in a manner of speaking. I knew Harold wanted to contribute to the kids' futures. Taylor's in this too."

She looked back at Harold, still stunned. "Thank you, Harold. I don't know what to say...thank you..."

Finch smiled. "Of course, Detective. Thank _you_ for everything you've done to make the world a better place—and...for the monumental impact you've had on John's life. What he has with you is all I could have wanted for him, after what he's been through. A true second chance."

She removed some of the parcels she'd received to the side, and, with a move towards John's assistance, stood up with heavy belly and kissed him soundly on his cheek. The blush in his face, the smile, were real and genuine, and if she didn't know better, she'd have thought she saw the glint of a tear in his eye. But it was only a glint. And there was no way he'd let that glint get any bigger outside his lids.

"It'll be put to good use, Finch. We promise you that."

"I have no doubts of that, Detective. None at all."

Harold caught a glimpse of John as they spoke. He hadn't seen an expression on his face like that since the close call with Kara Stanton's bomb vest was averted.

##

Within a few hours, all the shower guests had departed the Carter-Reese household, with kisses and hugs, and promises to get together for brunch and other activities. Joss was, much as her son had been, thoroughly wiped out by the end of the evening, which was still early by the clock's time, but late for her, a pregnant mother of two sons who had been prescibed light duty until after the baby was born. But she was most elated. The whole day had gone even better than she'd anticipated. Aaron was an angel during his party, and his soon-to-be baby sister would want for little.

At the end, the only guest remaining was Destiny. She was doing a bit of clean up, putting dishes and glasses in the kitchen, and even fluffing a few couch pillows. Joss smiled in her direction.

"Sweetie, do you have a way home? Taylor, how is Destiny getting home? It's getting late."

"Oh, I'm okay, Miss Joss. I can take the bus back to Queens. My parents said it was okay."

Joss cut her off with a decisive hand. "Oh, no, you don't. It's too cold and too dark for a young girl to be waiting on the bus around here. John, can you give Destiny a lift home?"

John, who had just reentered the living room area, caught just the tail end of the question. "What was that, Joss?"

"Destiny needs a lift home. She was going to take the bus. Can you drop her?"

John pursed his lips together. "Yeah, sure. Where do you live, exactly, Destiny?"

"I live in Queens, around Forest Hills. But really, I can take the bus..."

"No, you can't. I agree with Joss. I don't like the idea of you out there at a bus stop alone, in this weather. I'll take you."

"I second that," Taylor said. "Thanks, Pop."

"You wanna tag along, T?"

"Um, well, yeah, if Ma says it's okay. Can I, Ma?"

"She's your friend, Taylor. Of course, you should see her home. Go get your jacket."

"I'll go warm the car up," John said. "You gonna be okay, Joss?"

"Yeah, fine. I'll put a few more things away, go check on Aaron, and get ready for bed."

Destiny watched the interplay between the family, and she responded with an air of wistfulness. "Gee, thank you. It would be much warmer in the car."

"No problem, Destiny. And thank you for all your help today. I'm glad Taylor has such good taste in friends."

At that, both John and Taylor exchanged glances. Destiny had won his mother over. This day was as much a win for him as it had been for his siblings.

##

After saying his goodnights to Taylor upon the both of them returning home from the dropoff, John made his way to Aaron's nursery to check on the little fella, before turning the corner to make his way to the bedroom he shared with Joss. It was nice to be back in the now-quiet brownstone where it was warm and comfy. Entering the room, he came in to find that the light was on and, instead of a sleeping Joss, he found her sitting up in bed with a small magazine—in a black lace teddy.

John swallowed hard. God, she was beautiful. Her skin glowed in the lamplight, while her protruding belly, pregnant with his baby girl, pressed against the fabric of the teddy. Her breasts were full and pert, while her hair was loose and fell about her shoulders. Where was the nightgown she normally wore? It wasn't in need of a washing, for he had just taken it out of the laundry a couple days before.

"Hi," he said, quietly. "What are you still doing up? Thought you'd be asleep by now."

"Nope. Second wind," she answered back, her eyes on him. She was up to something. "Destiny make it back okay?"

"Yeah, fine. She sat in the back, with Taylor. Or rather, Taylor sat in the back with her. I just drove."

"That had better be all they did. Sitting in the back seat," she said, with a light grin and a smack of teeth.

John sniffed as he moved toward the dresser and reached for a drawer. "What's this? I thought you liked Destiny. She was a great help at the baby's party."

"I do. She's a nice girl, and yes, very helpful. But Taylor is my baby, too. He just needs to keep his head about him, that's all. Teenagers. Growing up too fast," she said, with a sigh and a shake of head.

He began to remove his clothing, first the shirts, then his shoes, socks, and jeans before grabbing a pair of jammie bottoms and a tee shirt.

"I'm gonna go brush up. Be right back," he said, trying not to look at his sexy, very pregnant lady, as he passed.

"Okay, I'll be here." She was still engrossed in her magazine, while wearing that damned teddy. If it weren't so hot, it'd be funny.

"Okay," he said, almost bounding out of the bedroom like he was rushing after a perp.

##

When he returned, Joss was still there with her magazine. But now, she turned her attentions toward him. Her eyes followed his every movement, and, when he allowed himself to see her watching him, he noted the spark of appreciation in her eyes—along with something else. Something else that they hadn't broached for the last few months.

Desire. Longing. Need.

It was there, plain as day, naked in her eyes. As naked as she'd be if that hot teddy wasn't covering the bits of her that it barely covered. He knew that look well; he'd had much pleasure in bringing it out of her since their relationship turned them from loosely-named partners in justice to lovers to parents.

He cleared his throat and steadfastly got himself sorted to join her in the bed. As he approached the blankets, she slowly put her magazine down and pulled them back to allow him entry. When he slipped into the bed next to her, she wordlessly slid her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, then the crook of his neck.

He thought he'd die. The shot of arousal to his groin was instantaneous. It was electrifying. And it was all wrong. All so terribly wrong.

After about thirty seconds, he closed his eyes and let out a rush of breath before disentangling himself from her embrace and lying back on his pillow. Joss remained, her arms in suspended animation, a look of surprise and perplexity across her face.

"John?" she asked softly.

"Uh huh?"

"Ummm, what just happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...what just happened to make it so that what was about to happen is now not happening?"

He sighed, putting his forearm over his eyes. "I'm tired, Joss. Between the birthday party and the shower, it's been a long day. Rest is good for the soul. And for expectant mothers, by the way."

She knew better. Unless he was turning into an old man in front of her eyes, she knew better. John could fight ten bad guys, kneecap three others, and come home to her for some good loving that would last for hours. Now, after a birthday party and a baby shower, he was tired?

"Okay. Forget I asked," she sighed.

"I told you, I'm just really tired. Which I thought you were too. You should get some sleep, Joss."

She looked down the length of his body and stuck out her tongue. Where his body wasn't covered by the bedding, she could see just how _not_ tired he actually was. He was tight lipped after that. But Joss didn't do tight lipped with him. Not anymore.

After a beat, she whipped the covers all the way off, and raised her hands in submission. "Okay, John. What's this about?"

"What's what about, Joss?" He sighed again, not wanting to push the issue, but also knowing that his body was still interested in the thing she wanted to get started with him.

"Am I too fat? I'm not attractive to you anymore? What?"

At those questions, John opened his eyes, sat up and reached out to stroke a tendril of her hair. "Joss, yes of course, you're attractive to me. You're beautiful. The sexiest woman I've ever known. I want you all the time, lady. Wait, hang on, where is this coming from?"

She was suddenly embarrased, and could feel the blush crawl up the back of her neck to her cheeks, then her entire face. Looking down at the covers, at the floor, anywhere but in his face, she continued.

"Well...it's just that...it's just...well...we haven't...made love in weeks, months now, even. And I figured that...with the kids in bed and all that...we could have some...private time for ourselves, for a change. It's been such a special day, for both of us, and well, this would be a perfect cap to that. So..."

It was true. He knew that. He knew it very well. It had been months since they'd made love. He'd been the one lying awake nights as she slept, holding her, breathing in her scent, touching her soft, glowing skin, in an agony of hunger to have her as he had before they found out they would be parents again. But instead of acknowledging that truth, he went on a soothing offense.

"Joss, it's okay. You're beautiful, just like I told you. Everything's all right, babe. Sex...sex isn't necessary. We're fine, babe."

"No, it isn't 'necessary', true—but it is nice for two people who love each other the way we do, isn't it? Besides, John, we did it when I was pregnant with Aaron, almost right up to the time for him to be born. With this baby, though, you haven't touched me in so long...I don't know why...I guess I'm not a bombshell just now, but still..."

John sighed and gently pulled her closer to his body. "God, sweetheart. How can you think that?" he asked with a soft urgency. "I'm telling you again, you are absolutely the sexiest woman I have ever known. And pregnant? Jesus..."

She turned to him, perplexed. "Well, then, why haven't we-?"

John put a forefinger up to her lips. "Honey...listen...it's not that I don't want you. You know better. I know you know better."

"I thought I knew that," she said.

He took another deep breath and looked away from her gaze in order to collect his thoughts.

"Honey, it's just...when I found out you were pregnant again, I've tried to be mindful of your well-being and the baby's as best I could ever since that wonderful, awful day."

Joss stroked his cheeked, an expression of tenderness and love in her eyes. "And you have been, John. You've been wonderful. I couldn't have asked for better care."

"Yes, well, ever since Dr. Tillman put you on your regimen, I've tried to do that, keep you and the baby and our boys as happy and as healthy as possible."

"Of course," she said. "And that's what's happened. I'm fine. So why aren't we making love, John?"

"Joss...Jesus, I..."

It was difficult for him to broach this subject with the kind of class and sensitivity he thought it deserved. A man like John Reese usually didn't talk about these kinds of things. In fact, until he met Joss Carter, he often didn't talk about many of the things that troubled him, or that needed to be spoken of. He was used to handling his life behind the barrel of a gun or a grenade launcher, soldiering and vigilantism perfect roles for not having to talk too much, not having to process feelings or dilemmas. She'd been a life-altering influence on him, for the better—but even still there were issues that were hard to discuss. And what she was angling for was one of them.

There should have been no doubt that he wanted her, he thought. All one had to do was look at him looking at her to know that. And of course, not touching her had been a strain for him too, especially when pregnancy seemed to do such delectable things to her body. She was fuller, riper, more...womanly, if that was even possible. His manly desires didn't dissipate one iota because her belly was suddenly getting bigger with each passing month. He had been there with her before, yes, with Aaron—and their sex life had indeed been as hot, if not hotter, than before she'd gotten with child.

However, now things were different. She was in a far more delicate condition. Her doctor had her on orders to take it easy, else her life and the baby's life could have been in danger. Blood pressure issues, stress, age, physical limitations. All of these and more could trigger problems. And to him, that included sexual intimacy. Yes, they'd done it almost until time for her to be induced with Aaron—but she hadn't had a fainting spell at an amusement park in the heat of summer, leading to other, though lesser—due to his care—concerns.

He wouldn't let his sexual appetites get in the way of her and this child making it through. He simply wouldn't risk it. And he hadn't had to worry about that. Until now.

"Look. I want you. I want you so much it hurts. I love you with my whole heart, Joss. But...Dr. Tillman has been with us since we found out you were pregnant, and...I just can't see putting you and the baby at risk because of...what I want."

She sighed, and then smiled, knowingly now. Patting his hand in understanding at first, she then took it and squeezed it.

"But I'm good, John. We're good. I feel fine, just like I did, for the most part, when I was pregnant with Taylor and Aaron."

"Yes, but you didn't have any serious health scares with Aaron. I could have lost you or the baby out there at that damned beach, Joss. I just-"

"Just what?"

"I don't want to risk it, Joss. If we have sex, I just think...I just think I could hurt you and our little girl, and I couldn't bear the thought, sweetheart. Don't you know that?"

Joss pursed her lips and nodded. "John, you are the biggest worry wart. And I love you for that, among every other reason there is to love you," she began. "But, baby, there's nothing to worry about. I am able to have sex with you. And Dr. Tillman says so."

John wrinkled his brow. "That's news to me, Joss."

She chuckled. "You want to see the notes she gave me from my checkup last month, where the topic of intimacy came up? I can show 'em to you. Or have her give you a call and explain. Your choice."

John looked at her with a wry smile. "You must think I'm a damn fool."

"No, no I don't. I think you're a good man who loves his family more than anything, and would do anything to protect us. But, John, baby, on this, you don't have to worry. Dr. Tillman says there's no reason why we can't be together."

"Are you sure, Joss? I won't risk it."

"I'm sure."

He kissed her softly, then put his arms around her.

"Well, in that case, why don't we make a special night of it? Because my good man does take such take good care of me, I could maybe...return the favor?"

John smirked at her. He did want her, would never stop wanting her. And if Dr. Tillman said it was okay for them to make love, even as she right about at her third trimester, he was supremely glad for that. But he was resolute in his determination not to hurt her or the baby.

"Mmmm. You know, as tantalizing as that sounds, how about we make an occasion of it instead?"

"An occasion? How so?"

"Taylor's at his dad's next weekend, right?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"Well, maybe we could have your mom keep Aaron for us and you and I stay here and have some dinner, a little grape juice, and then...each other?"

"Gosh, that far away, John? The kids are asleep. We're not. Nothing to get in the way of us...right..now..."

She had begun nibbling his ear, only to trail a set of sweet little kisses down the back of his neck. John closed his eyes and exhaled audibly, his head turning to get his fill of her gorgeous lips on his skin.

"Mmmm," he hummed. "I think...mmm...I think I like that. I think I like that very much." He turned further to let his fingers trail lightly on her belly, only to splay his palm across the space where her full roundness met her breasts in the teddy. Soon, his lips caught hers, and their kiss, initially soft and tentative, soon turned into a white hot flame, his tongue tip slipping through in access to her own.

Soon, hands and fingers found hair and cheeks, then thighs and legs and back again. John was careful To lie Joss back in a comfortable position and refrained from putting weight on her. She accepted the lie back and wrapped her arms around his neck. He murmured praise against her temple.

"Oh, Joss...how could you ever, ever think...that I didn't want this? Do you know how sexy you are? Every day? God..."

He proceeded to show her with his lips and hands leaving heat across her neck, her cheeks, and finally back to her inviting mouth. A whimper escaped her lips as John's tongue probed and teased before sliding back in for a full taste.

"I love you, John Reese," she said, her deep brown eyes pools of that very sentiment.

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

But as John rose up and pulled off his tee shirt to fully begin their dance of desire, the baby monitor sounded.

It sounded with the soft whimper of a baby boy next door. That whimper turned into several whimpers, then soft pants—which again turned to whimpers before the storm of crying fully erupted.

John hummed in worry and frustration, and he ran his hands across his head. A slow smile crept his face and he wordlessly looked at Joss before turning his head towards the wall. By this point, however, Aaron's cries had quickly escalated into a full on distress call. John quickly hopped off the bed and raced to his son, with Joss, in her slowed condition, following behind him, her robe pulled on for modesty's sake.

"Hey, little guy, what's up?" asked softly. When the small lamp near his crib came on, Joss could see what some of the issue was. Aaron was pulling at his ear.

"Uh oh, John."

"What? What is it?"

"Well, he's pulling at his ear. I bet it hurts. Ear infection."

John picked up the baby, who had been sitting up in his crib screaming, and indeed, pulling at his ear.

He wrinkled his brow. "Not only that, he's burning up. Jesus, he was sleeping okay when I looked in on him just a while ago. Maybe he was a little flushed, but nothing too worrying. I guess I should have felt his head or cheeks then. Daddy's sorry, little man."

"Babies and illness often have lousy timing. Come, bring him over to the changing table, John. We need the thermometer.

Aaron, now in his own special agony, began to turn red and was now in full on wail mode.

After a few minutes, the rectal thermometer told them what they'd suspected: Aaron was running a fever, and very possibly had an ear infection. John hadn't seen this before, but Joss had. Aaron had had his share of fevers since he was born, though it had been Taylor who was prone to the earaches up until he was about seven. And they were terrible for him.

"We need to call Dr. Nichols, John." she said, over the din.

"Right. Can she see him now?"

"Doubt it. But we still need to call. Let me take him. You got your phone?"

"Yep." For Aaron, he attempted to be a soothing voice. "It's okay, little guy. It's okay. I should have known something was up when you fell asleep on your own tonight."

"Definitely. Oh, Mommy's got you boo nut...we'll make it better."

So for the rest of that night, they stayed up with Aaron, who had, on his first birthday, come down with a nasty fever and possible ear infection, which turned into a definite runny and gooey nose. He was almost inconsolable, the agony inside his ear not allowing for calm words. Before the end of the night was through, even Taylor woke up to see what the commotion was. He brewed coffee for his parents. It would be a long night.

So much for rekindling romance.

 **A/N: Ah, parenthood. Aaron, poor thing, down with a bug on his birthday. At least he got to have fun and enjoy himself before the nasties hit him. But for sure, babies I've known never go to sleep on their own—unless they're coming down with something. Yikes.**

 **The holidays will come after holidays, so stay tuned. A little tension between Paul Carter and John should make things interesting for Joss. Either that, or give her a headache.**

 **Hope everyone has had warm and happy holidays yourselves. 2017 in full effect. Yay!**

 **Stay tuned!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: And back again with the follow up to Chapter 21. Aaron and his daddy both wind up sick, which puts a little damper on Christmas preparations, but all works as it should. John has a meeting with Lionel, where he gets some background on their little secret side project—and some advice. And Aaron continues to test his boundaries, often with humorous results. Little scamp!**

 **I hope you enjoy the read, and thank you again for all the support.**

Joss was able to get Aaron into see Dr. Nichols first thing, after the phone call from John the night before. The poor babe had had a hard night of it indeed, though the warming vapor bath prescribed for him had done a world of wonders. It had finally allowed him to get back to sleep, after also getting a dose of baby Tylenol elixir, carefully measured out by dropper, and a snug wrap up in one of his parent's quilts. After initially taking shifts, Joss was allowed to go back to bed, while John stayed up with Aaron just about until daybreak in the nursery. He had to be satisfied that his gentle rocking really had put his sweet boy down for a well-deserved rest. Only then would he consider putting him down for a rest of his own.

The fact that the fever bug hit Aaron on the long weekend was good news and bad news for Taylor. The good news was that he didn't have to get up for school after having also stayed up because of his brother's troubles. The bad news was that he had an English test on Monday that he'd hardly cracked a book or study guide for, what with all the activity in his house, and he had planned to cram for with Curtis. But he'd slept through the late morning, and not emerging from his room until just afternoon, he had to text Curtis and tell him that he was wiped from the night before and that they'd have to meet later to study. Such an arrangement was more detrimental to Curtis than Taylor, who was a top-notch student in English, and who worked with his best friend as more of a favor to him than anything else. Still, his mother had always reminded him that it was better not to approach these things from the angle of going in cold turkey.

The only one who seemed to come out of all this unruffled was Joss. Aaron was a generally healthy boy now, but having done duty with his early colds and fevers in his first months, she'd been well used to how they could just sneak up on him without warning. John had been right to note that he seemed fine all along, and that there was no real indication of him coming down with anything, save for his going to sleep on the couch by himself. But once it got hold of him, it got hold of him. And he was a bear when he wasn't feeling well.

His parents' plan for romance had to be put on the back burner even further as they got Aaron seen at Dr. Nichols' office, got a prescription refilled for more Children's Tylenol, and went through the process of getting him better. As the days went on, he indeed did start feeling more like himself, though his nose was a mass of yucky goop that he was never happy about getting cleaned—particularly with the suction squeegie—and he still sported a steady little phlegmy cough. However, the medicine and vapor baths did help tremendously with his naps, and he was willing to eat most of his meals and snacks—even if every once and a while his mashed potatoes shot out of his mouth onto his high chair table after a big sneeze.

His newfound walking skill was hampered too, not so much because he'd forgotten that he could, but more so because whenever Joss would put him down on the kitchen floor in his soft slippers to try his luck, he would simply stand there and look at her-wide-eyed, bewildered, stuffy nosed-before he got fussy and began to cough-cry, his little bottom lip curling with the sadness that not feeling well could bring.

"Maaa-meeee...maa...maaaaa...aaaawooooommm...maaaaaa..."

Joss' heart broke for her little boo nut. This should be the time where he was getting his bearings on his feet, getting used to taking more steps. But instead, it was as if he was afraid again, and not sure of his ability while sick. She went over to him, while he put his arms up to her for mommy love, and scooped him up, giving him the warmest hug she could, which, while it didn't completely stop his moaning and cooing, did go a ways to slow it down.

Meanwhile, his baby sister decided to take that moment to get her kicks in, and in response to the sensation, Aaron stopped his crying for a moment and looked down at the bulge of his mother's belly.

"Bee-bee," he said, putting the palm of his hand there, and tapping it awkwardly. "Da' bee-bee."

Joss kissed her son on his cheek. "Yep! That's right, Aaron! Boy, you are just picking up words all over the place! That's the baby. That's your sister. Soon, your daddy and I will have all three of our angels with us. She's saying hi to you, Aaron, big brother!"

"Bee-bee," he repeated, and continued to repeat for several minutes. Joss was elated. She couldn't wait to tell John the new word their son was now saying.

##

WhileAaron's increasing vocabulary was a cause for celebration, it was not all rainbows and daisies where he was concerned. It turned out that babies were contagious. Though Aaron had made progress on the mend, his father was not so lucky. Not more than a week after his son's fever broke, he started feeling warm and achy himself. Pretty soon, he was hunched over the toilet, dry heaving after having vomitted most of the solid contents of his stomach, and some of the not-so-solid as well. Then, the warm and achy became even more so, and his temperature spiked to over 103. It was official: John was now the sickest baby in the house.

Over that next week, the role of full-time caregiver once again fell to Joss. She had had two ill boys on her hands, and was doing her darndest to keep from having three. Taylor was sent to school with extra vitamin C, hand sanitizer, and packed hot chicken soup in his thermos. He moaned and whined about being treated like a first-grader, but his mother didn't care. She needed him well to help her on the one hand, and on the other, Taylor could be even more stubborn about getting sick than the baby. And with the official start of the Christmas season, it would be heartbreaking if her boys couldn't fully enjoy the wonder of it all due to illness.

Because of all the turmoil with flu season going on, she postponed decorating for Christmas, wanting John well enough to partake in the tradition, as he had been able to the year before. Much of that job was his then, since Joss was about to give birth to Aaron at any moment, her girth prohibiting her from going overboard with balls and tinsel. She instructed John to go overboard instead. Their Christmas was extra special that year, as it had also been the first time in a long time that John had had any reason to celebrate. And now, they had been even doubly blessed. It all had to go on as scheduled. It just had to.

And John understood this very well, which is why he called upon some of the grit and resolve of his military and CIA training to get him through. He allowed himself two days straight in bed, downing concoctions of vitamins, fluids of varying kinds and potencies—including straight whiskey—and menthol tabs to break the fever. He also rubbed down with cool compresses and diluted eucalyptus oils and had his own version of the vapor bath his son had had. By the third day, he was eating solid food again, and by day four, he was completely fine. No sniffles, no headaches, no nausea, no coughing. John Reese was a bad ass, even during the cold season. The germs hadn't had a chance.

Having daddy back on his feet again prompted the same response in Aaron. After a little practice, by the end of the following week, little man was happily toddling around the house, following his father and brother around, dragging his toys with him, and causing all sorts of general mayhem for a year-old infant to cause. He revelled in his ability to walk, and then—awkwardly—run, discovering all sorts of amazing worlds and possibilities previously unattainable.

For John, it was a joy to watch his baby boy, even if it was a constant job keeping his 'little behind', as Joss would say, out of trouble. And he'd once thought the numbers was a 24/7 job. Nothing the Machine could throw at him was in any league with his infant son on his feet. That same following weekend, they all piled into the Volvo and headed to a Christmas tree farm upstate to pick the perfect one for their living room. Taylor carried Aaron in his little Seattle Seahawks snowsuit, while they all went around the grounds with other families, checking size and health of the trees they saw. Their living room could take a five-footer, and after about a half-hour or so, the attendant was able to point them in the direction of the tree that would be theirs.

"Hey, Aaron, looks like Ma and Pop found us a tree! Look! Do you like it?"

"Bombommdadada...naa...aaamm.." Aaron spoke, while point in the general direction of the tree. They all grinned, including the attendant, and took that as a resounding 'yes.'

However, once they got the tree back home to Brooklyn and got out all the balls, tinsel, lights and other decorations, the tree nearly didn't get fixed up, since Aaron was entirely fascinated by it all—and determined to have a decorating experience all his own. Every time his brother would move him over and away from the base of the tree, he'd find his way back to it not long after, picking a side to waddle to where Taylor wasn't, so as not to be disturbed in shaking the tree, hiding under it, or attempting to put some of its needles in his mouth.

"Ma!" Taylor soon called out over festive music playing on the flatscreen, exasperated. "Ma!"

"What is it, baby?" Joss answered back from the kitchen, where she was making hot chocolate and popcorn for herself and Taylor.

"Come get Aaron, please? He's trying to knock the tree over and eat off it! Aaron, stop! No, no! Bad boy!"

From there, Joss would hear Aaron scream in annoyance, and she knew that, while he put up a good fight, he was being kept from doing what it was he wanted to do.

"Oh, my God, Aaron's gonna drive poor Taylor crazy," she chuckled to herself before calling out, "Taylor, just put him in the playpen."

"Then, he'll just start screaming. Aaron, stop! Get outta there. Come here. Ma said to put you in the playpen. That's where you go."

Aaron understood spoken language more and more, as his own tiny vocabularly increased. He knew the word 'playpen,' and it wasn't always a word he liked. On this occasion, it was downright awful. He began to stomp his feet on the mattress and wave his hands in protest, before the full on wail came out, while his attempt to flee was thwarted by his much bigger and faster older brother.

"Sorry, Aaron. You shouldn't have been tryin' to eat the tree. Deal with it, baby bro.."

Red-faced and angry, his cry was more than adequate to cover the dulcet sounds of Nat King Cole's rendition of "O Tannenbaum" on the TV He sat at first to cry, then stood up against the soft rails and held on, his squinted eyes following Taylor's every move, in a kind of plea for clemency. When he realized that his big brother wasn't coming to free him, he only wailed louder and stomped harder.

Taylor shook his head. "Man, pretty soon, we gonna get two babies screamin' in this house. Gonna have to hear that double. Shoot," he mumbled to himself. But he continued on with his work, sorting through boxes of things for the tree, a tiny bit of peace his, at least.

Joss soon came into the living room with a bowl of popcorn and a tray of cocoa, setting it down on the coffee table before going over to the playpen to see about Aaron. Dressed in a warm tan cotton sweater, faux diamond studs, and elegantly flared maternity jeans, she was the picture of expectant-mother style.

"How's it coming with what we have, Taylor? Are most of these decorations still holding up?" she shouted over the noise.

"Umm, yeah, I guess," he replied. "The star's kinda ratty, but not too much else is broken. I tried to start with the silver balls until Aaron saw them and wanted to dump the box on the floor. Had to take it from him."

Joss picked up her crying son while talking to her decorating one. She quickly found Aaron's binky on the side of the playpen and popped it in his mouth. The action of her picking him up and popping the binky went a long way to his quieting down. He soon became content with twisting his fingers through his touseled curls and laying his head on his mommy's shoulder—until his twisting to get at the tree yet again took precedence.

"Hey, uh-uh. Aaron, stop it. Somebody needs his nap. Soon enough," she said, with a kiss and a shift away from the tree.

"That's better," sighed Taylor. "Big mouth boy."

"He's no louder than you were at his age," she giggled. "I swore I'd have to get earplugs in order to put you to sleep sometimes. But yeah, we will have to watch him until the tree comes down. This is all new for him."

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, where's Pop? I thought he was just going out to the hardware store for some more lights and extra ground plugs. He's been gone a while."

"Well, you know John and what a perfectionist he can be. Maybe he's taking his sweet time in deciding on just the right kinds of lights and plugs at the right prices."

"Yeah, I guess," Taylor repeated for the third time.

"Is that all you can say? 'Yeah, I guess?'"

"Yeah, I guess," he grinned.

Joss sucked her teeth and smiled at him. "Come on here, boy. Come have some popcorn and cocoa before it gets cold."

Taylor raised a brow. "Umm, what about Aaron? You know he's gonna want some. No cocoa, no peace."

Joss shrugged while balancing the weight of her son on the other arm. One of his little moccasin house slippers had come off in the play pen.

"Yes, and he'll have some. That's what sippy cups are for. Huh, boo nut? Mommy's going to let you have a little treat. That should make up for not getting your hands on the Christmas tree."

As if on cue, Aaron's head popped up and he smiled a big boy smile, careful not to let the binky slip out of his mouth.

##

"Merry Christmas to you too, Wonderboy. Want a beer or somethin'? This joint sells beer now. Had to do something to take the edge off the cheeseburgers, I guess."

"Thanks, Lionel," John said, with a smirk as they sat in a booth at the Lyric Diner. "But I'm driving. Besides, I'm in the middle of things. Just tell me what you got."

Lionel grinned at him. "Carter still don't know you got itchy fingers again, huh?"

"No. And I don't want her to know, what with being so close to having the baby. I hope that's clear, Detective."

"Ah, don't worry about me. I won't say a word. Especially if it means Glasses and me get to keep you in the loop on this."

John rimmed his glass of complimentary water. "All right, then. So, keep me in the loop. What have you got?"

"Well, there is some definite activity going at Brooklyn Magnet. Drug activity. Possibility of it being much deeper than just kids peddling the petty stuff for a few hundred bucks a pop."

"That's usually a safe bet, Lionel. The kids have to be getting it from somewhere, and that somewhere is usually an organization with a mass of tentacles. Drugs lead to money, money leads to guns and hit squads for kingpins. But damn," he swore while tapping the bottom of the glass on the table. "that's Taylor's school. Those are good kids. Who have these scum roped into doing their dirty work?"

"We're working on that, me and Glasses. We got a few kids, we'll get more," Lionel said. "Now, I'm still Homicide, as you know so this is kind of an off-the-books operation unless it turns into something else, but if I get enough goods and nobody ends up dead, I'll turn this over to Syzmanski in, let him wrap it up, get the credit. That still officially keeps you out of it. And Glasses."

"Standard protocol, Lionel. You're getting better at this."

"Meh, I'm a fast learner. In any case, this definitely has Dominic written all over it. Drug activity in schools ain't Elias' bag. We know that. Plus, take a look at these," he said, pushing over some surveillance photos of the school and other locations in the area. " These were taken a few days ago. See this guy?"

"Yeah. Betting he's not one of the kids at the school."

"Very astute, Wonderboy. His name's Rico Johnson. Did five years on armed robbery, served three before early release. Just got out five months ago. Now, a main guy on Dominic's payroll. He's the recruiter in those parts. Generally gets the kids involved through pick up games."

"Basketball?" John asked, eyeing Fusco.

"Yeah. Play a few games of hoops, get in the kids' graces, butter 'em up, then asks 'em if they wanna make some easy money. Lot of these kids, as you know, come from lousy backgrounds, and 'easy money' sounds real good."

"How do they get into it?"

"Starter bags of weed, small ones, to see if they have the stomach for it. If they don't, or they can't move it, he gets it back, no hard feelings. But if they manage to move it, he acts like a coach, encouraging them more and more to sell more. So far, there are at least five kids we've nabbed actively dealing between Brooklyn Magnet and PS 46, all with bags of pot with street values into the thousand-dollar level. These guys aren't stupid enough to trust kids with more than that. But still, that's a lot."

"And, as usual, because they're kids, the records don't stick as hard when they get caught," John replied.

"Exactly. We gotta get enough surveillance to get our boy Rico back in Rikers."

John frowned. "But that doesn't touch Dominic. He just gets another recruiter, or ten. And we still have a problem."

"Yeah, we do. Until one of them decides to turn evidence when we do get more on the smaller fries-"

"-he continues to peddle drugs at my son's school," John said, finishing the thought.

Lionel studied him for a moment, eyes bright with a suspicious mirth. " _Your_ son? What, you gone and adopted Taylor and nobody told me?"

John slowly turned his expression towards the portly detective. "No. But I have lived with him and his mother for over a year and a half now, and frankly, he feels like mine."

Lionel shrugged. "I guess so, Wonderboy. But if I were you, I'd be careful about that."

"What do you mean?" John asked, still rimming the glass with his finger.

"Well, you've got a great thing going with Joss and the kids, and your new daughter will complete that, certainly. But Taylor does have a dad, who is still in his life, and if you throw your weight around with that, it could cause some problems."

John sat up, straightbacked and stoic, staring straight ahead. "There are no problems. Everything's great. This is the happiest I've ever been in my life. And Taylor is a major reason why. He's part of Joss. He's Aaron's brother. And I'm the one there with him, for him. That's no small thing, Lionel."

"John, I hear that," Fusco said, trying another angle. "I can tell how happy you are. How you've changed, and I gotta tell ya, it is for the better, trust me. All I'm saying is just be careful. I know you love Taylor, and that's why we're here having this talk about Dominic. But I also know what the situation is with him and Joss' ex a little bit, and Taylor keeps you and his father at bay for a reason. He knows there could be problems. And he doesn't want to upset either one of you. Just don't forget who his real dad is."

Suddenly, an unexpected stroke of temper flared in John's heart, a surprisingly strong one.

"How do you know what the 'situation' is between Paul Carter and Taylor?"

"He talks to Lee sometimes.. Lee talks to me I guess he feels like they have a kinship or something, seeing how screwed up their parents' relationships have been. I'm not proud of mine, you know."

"No. I suppose not." A second's pause before he looked up and darted his gaze above his friend's head to nowhere in particular.

"Nope. Not exactly my finest hour. But I tried. We both did, I guess."

"You done, Lionel?" he asked, firmly placing the glass on the table, this time his view squarely landed on the detective's face.

Lionel guessed correctly that he'd struck a nerve. "Yeah, John. I..uh..I guess that's good for now, on the case and all. I'll keep you posted. If this thing escalates, can I count on your superhero skills?"

"I called this meeting, didn't I? If anything, I'll be looking for back up from you when the time is right. Listen, I gotta go. Joss'll be worried. See you, Lionel. Happy holidays. Thanks."

He abruptly stood up, put on his leather jacket, turned and walked out the door of the Lyric, not bothering to look back.

"Lemme have a light beer," Lionel said with a sigh to the waiter coming up to take his order. As John rounded the corner towards the Volvo, he watched him go with a frown and a remorseful shake of his head.

"Ah, you done it now, haven't you, Fusco?" he said to himself as the beer and the waiter came back within minutes.

"Pardon, sir?"

"No, nothin.' How much do I owe you?"

 **A/N: Yes, leave it to Lionel to strike that nerve in John. But is he really telling him something he shouldn't hear? Taylor does have a father, even if distant, and even if he's come to be superbly fond of John (and defers to his authority). Something of a back-to-reality moment for him. Meanwhile, he still isn't letting Joss in on the fact that he's been snooping around Taylor's school due to a drug operation going on under their noses.**

 **At least Aaron is having fun with his first real Christmas. I had fun writing him misbehaving under the tree and driving his brother up the wall. That's what kids are for, haha! He definitely has a mind of his own, even at this age. Lovely little scamper.**

 **As we speak, Chapter 23 is being prepared. Please feel free to read and drop a line on this on, and stay tuned for the next. Thank you, as always, and be well!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: This is the set of Christmas chapters I actually wanted to get to over the Christmas holidays, but life being what it is, particularly around the holidays, that didn't happen. Oh, well—almost in time for Valentine's Day, anyway!**

Over the next few weeks, Aaron was mostly over his cold, save for a runny nose that always seemed to run then, along with the occasional cough, and the brownstone took on more of the aura of Christmas. He was fascinated by the colored lights as they blinked on and off on the tree and the windows, and the shiny balls that hung from the branches. His parents did much to keep him from getting too close on his feet, but they also did what they could to feed his curiosity by letting him touch the balls and tinsel while holding him. There was also a manger scene under the tree that he was quite taken by, while the stuffed Santa and elves collection was something they let him actually play with on the big rug.

Joss and John had also begun playing Santa, their shopping trips together in Manhattan done while Corinne was kind enough to take Aaron off their hands for a few hours, and during Taylor's school days. He'd be tickled by the new video game system they were getting him, this one with faster speeds than his old one, and a wider selection of the more popular games that he and hid friends played. Joss also went a ways towards refilling his wardrobe closet with new sneakers, warm winter sweaters with an eye towards what Taylor liked in style, and new basketball shorts. John had a custom made Army-style watch, much like the one he still wore—but with a few hi-tech advancements—on order at Paulson's Army Navy. Taylor had expresed interest in such a watch here and there, and so he'd get one. Joss was impressed, and knew Taylor would be too.

For Aaron, a milestone: his very first trike bike, a red and white number with a puppy dog on the front base. He'd be ready to try it out in a few months, as soon as he had more practice in walking and running, and so they wanted him to have the little Red Rider when that time came. He also got clothes and shoes, a new set of building blocks, storybooks, and other wonderful items.

For the new baby, there wasn't much more she needed, since the shower had been so bountiful, but John and Joss both decided to pick out a beautiful scrap book, embossed in white trim ornamentation, that would be filled with pictures, keepsakes and the like, just for her.

They hadn't decided on a name, even though they'd known the sex of their unborn child for several weeks up to that point. Both figured they'd let her be born first, and then go from there. A few names were floating around for them, but again, they'd make the final decision once they got to say hello to her.

For their friends, there were bottles of wine and port, restaurant gift cards, fine chocolate assortments, first-editions for Harold, and a bit of gourmet kibble for Bear. Corinne was gifted with a new laptop to replace her old PC, a comforter set, and a blank gift certificate for lunch at an eatery at her choice.

Of course, what Mommy and Daddy got each other they kept top secret. Joss was a snoop by nature, but John was covert by training, and no matter how she tried to get a handle on her gifts, she couldn't do it. He was simply too good at hiding things. As for his own interest, John nonchalantly said he was good until Christmas in knowing what he got, and that he knew it'd be something special, whatever it was. Joss playfully pouted at him when, over dinner, he still wouldn't budge, even with her best interrogation tactics at hand.

"Aww, Pop, that's the way. Drive her nuts with it!" he laughed.

"Taylor, you're supposed to be on my side!" she protested.

"Nah, Pop's got this," he said.

John put his fork down and crossed his fingers over his mouth. Clearing his throat to stifle his own laughter, he offered dessert instead. "Chocolate cake's up next. Yuuuummm...yes...yess...yuuumm," he said, as he made go-go faces at a giggly Aaron, and rubbed noses together.

"'Dake,'" Aaron said. "Mooomm...dah...dah...'dake..."

"Yeeeeah, time for some cake. You want a little cake, Aaron? Huh, big boy? You were so good in eating all your chicken, peas and pasta shells, I think you can have some," John replied, while getting up to take his baby platter and sippy cup from his high chair table, and to get the cake plate from the kitchen.

"Yah. Yaaahhhh..." Aaron replied, nodding his head with his pleading baby eyes.

"Remember, not too much for him, John," Joss said.

"Oh, no worries. He's got more teeth now. Besides," he said, a teasing glint in his eye. "We all know who's gonna eat most of it anyway. Don't we, Mommy?"

At his playful implication, Joss found a dinner roll in the basket, and without missing aim, chucked it at him. John was quick, but not quick enough to miss the roll pop him square in the ass. Aaron banged on the table and squealed in humor.

He laughed unabashedly and pointed in humorous accusation. "Detective, stop wasting food! What is wrong with you? You could be eating that roll, you know. In fact, I'm surprised you haven't." He picked up the roll and dropped it in the nearby basket.

"I am not that bad, John. You take that back. Hell, you and Taylor still have me and the babies beat _any_ day when it comes to inhaling food in this house. Boy, please. Those _two_ pizzas I ordered last weekend were practically gone before I even paid the delivery guy. And that was all your doing," she said.

"Nope, nope. That doesn't count. We hadn't had anything to eat before that since breakfast. But for real, Pop and I did not get one Kettle Chip from that big bag we had the other day. Not one!" Taylor piped in.

"You want a biscuit upside your head, too?"

Taylor put his hands up to shield himself, but he was still laughing. "Naw, I'm okay, Ma. Good one, Pop."

The mirth and silliness at their dinner table was infectious, and Aaron could not help but continue to join in. He giggled, screamed, and clapped in happiness because his family was happy. And his joy only increased when his daddy brought him his piece of that prized chocolate cake.

##

On Christmas Eve, the family spent the morning placing their presents under the tree. Aaron, of course, was beside himelf in trying to get at the tree again, all the colorful wrapping, boxes, and bows were like nothing he'd seen before, not even at his birthday party. But of course, he wasn't let anywhere near it. The big day would come soon enough.

Instead, the family made preparations for a light Christmas lunch before Taylor was to go off to his father's house to spend the day with him and his wife. Joss, John, and Aaron would make the trip to Corinne's house for Christmas dinner.

But Taylor would be with them for Christmas Eve services at the local Zion AME church. Joss thought it important for them to take part in commemorating the occasion of Jesus' birth and example. John hadn't gone to church for himself since he'd enlisted in the Army, so it promised to be a bit weird for him. But it was Joss' wish to go, and he agreed that it might be good to expose Aaron to religious influences. It certainly wouldn't hurt him.

After an early dinner, they'd all gotten ready for church. Each wore dress casual for the occasion. Aaron was a handsome boy in his beige khakis, baby oxfords, and blue cotton shirt. And this time, he let Mommy lightly oil and brush his hair without fuss. Sitting on her lap, he merely handled one of his large plastic building blocks. There was always a first time for everything. Perhaps the notion of being good for Santa could even be impressed on infant boys somehow. Joss wouldn't question it, however it happened!

John, too, decided to spiff up for the evening, and Joss was very pleased to see him, a vision of gorgeousness in his three-piece navy blue suit, sans tie. He'd gotten a haircut a few days before, and along with the part on the side and the gel, he was the picture of the capable family man, stalwart and sure, a man a woman and children could depend on. She was so very proud that he was her man, and indeed that dependable father for her children.

If she was honest, she'd admit that he looked just like he used to. The Man in the Suit, object of her chase, turned vigilante bad ass. And she liked that look. She had never been averse to it. It was just the job description that gave her pause sometimes.

"Wow, John...you look...beautiful," she gushed quietly.

"Well, Christmas doesn't come every day, you know," he replied, with a wink.

Joss herself was no ugly duckling. In a loose fitting turquoise caftan with comfy yet stylish white cotton maternity pants and tan booties, she was right on the relaxed dress code of the church. Wearing her hair in a loose bun, she was spartan with her makeup—which John preferred—and she went for modest jewelry. Classy yet comfortable. That would do just fine.

When they had cleared up from dinner and made it over to church, they found that Corinne, Fred and Mabel, Alma, and other neighbors were all in attendance at services, with some of the other ladies of the congregation openly giving John the once, twice, three times-over, his stunning entrance with her and the boys raising more than a few eyebrows about the tall and handsome white man, a man in such command of himself, with an air of gentle authority about him, walking into their church with a very pregnant black woman and two boys in tow.

Joss, as usual, knew folks were staring, and that some were even whispering—but she let it slide with a satisfied smile. Let 'em whisper, she thought. She knew was winning, and they all did too.

During the service, Aaron was relatively peaceful, his attention taken by the high ceilings, pews, and people of the congregation. When the music started and he heard the percussion and organ, he reacted by pointing at what he heard and looking back at his parents for confirmation of the sounds. During the silent prayers, Aaron was fairly quiet, too, though he did coo and scream little bit here and there. And he certainly wasn't the only baby guilty of that.

At the end of services, there were small gifts for all the children. John showed Aaron his small parcel, a children's bible, wrapped in themed paper with a ribbon across it. Aaron's interest was clearly in tearing at the paper and tapping on the holy book with his hands. John shook hands with and thanked the minister, as well as the other elders of the church, while they made happy faces and bestowed blessings on Aaron for a happy Christmas.

Meanwhile, Joss was having a giggle with Mabel in another section of the church.

"Joss, you know all these here old women nearly choked on their dentures when they saw you come here with John and the baby."

"Yeah, I know. Some of the young ones was at it too. That's how it goes. I let them wonder, is all. It makes me laugh. Especially Miss Edna. She almost twisted her neck off looking back at us. I waved, three times."

Mabel burst out laughing. "No, she didn't!"

Joss raised her eyebrows in mirth. "Yes, she did. Even Aaron waved at her on the last go, and I guess that's what got her to stop staring. Girl, I tell you."

"Well, I have to admit, when I met him, I stared too—though I was more stealth than she is. I never did ask you: where did you find him?"

"Hmm, he's a former colleague. I thought I told you that. Well, anyway, we became friends after not being so agreeable at first. Went through some heavy stuff together. Came out of it, and got closer. He's...complicated, in his way, extremely so. He's wrestled a lot of demons in his life. But God, Mabel, he is the very best man I have ever known, next to my daddy. I wasn't expecting him—or Aaron—but I'm sure glad I have them both."

"Well, I'm glad, too, girl. He's fine, he's devoted, and he's good with your kids. If you can get that in this life, more power to you. God had a plan for you."

"I think so, Mabel. I think so."

The ladies both fell into laughter again. Joss hadn't had a circle of girlfriends in a long time, her life as a NYPD detective not lending itself to making friends. Of course, there were women that she knew, and colleagues in the department, but Mabel and Alma had become a source of support and companionship she'd realized she'd been missing in her time on the force, especially while John was still out in the field. The closest friends she had were John, Fusco, and Harold, to be honest. But it wasn't the same as having that circle of women in your corner. She felt blessed to be among them.

"Hello, ladies," John said, in walking over with Aaron and Taylor.

"John, boys," replied Mabel. "Merry Christmas."

"You, too, Mabel. Hey, is Fred here? I don't see him around."

"Oh, he's out taking Lissee to the bathroom. She's doing well with potty training."

John rolled his eyes and smiled. "That'll be a ways for Aaron, maybe. But then, he's getting along so fast, maybe not."

"It'll be here before you know it, " Mabel said. "They grow up quick!"

"Yes, yes they do. Joss, you about ready, honey? We're supposed to meet Finch at the safehouse in a little while."

"Safehouse?" Mabel asked, a puzzled expression on her face. "There a nuclear bomb go off I didn't hear about or something?"

John and Joss exchanged glances. Who would be the one to say? John decided it would be him

"Umm, Finch is an exec in the security firm I worked for. He was with us for Thanksgiving, remember? We...uh..nicknamed the office 'the safehouse,' on account that it was so well fortified, you could live there."

"Yes, I met him. A very interesting character. Security must be a lucrative business, too. From what I remember, he's loaded!"

"Yes. Very much so.. It's been taking very good care of us," Joss replied, with a faint smile.

"Ah, I see," Mabel replied, still puzzled, but accepting. The two parents in front of her were glad for that. They didn't feel like having to explain futher.

John repeated, after a pause, "Babe, you ready to go?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, John. Let me just stop into the ladies room myself first, and then I'll be all set. Mabel, we will catch up with you sometime this week, right? I have some gifts for the kids. Well, from John and me."

"Oh, yes!" Mabel said. "We also have something for your babies, too. Give me a call and we'll make plans."

"Will do," Joss replied with a quick hug and kiss. "Merry Christmas, sweetie. Aaron, say bye-bye to Auntie Mabel."

Aaron did as he was instructed, raising his little hand to wave and smile at Mabel. She, in turn, gave him, Taylor, and John a kiss.

"Merry Christmas to you, too. We'll see you soon."

Once the Volvo was loaded, the Carter-Reese family made their way across the bridge into Manhattan to Harold's for a small get-together. Extra room was made prior to leaving the house, as they would be picking up Bear and bringing him back to let him spend some time at the brownstone. That would also give Aaron a chance to get to know the dog a little better. Belgian Malinois were not the most domestic of dogs, but Bear had shown nothing but the utmost gentleness with Aaron, even if Aaron hadn't quite practiced the same gentleness, and was well-behaved overall at Thanksgiving. John had also missed spending time with the dog he'd rescued from money launderers, and so he looked forward to having him over. A little holiday treat for all of them.

The ride throughout the city at Christmastime was magic all around. They had no problems out of Aaron, who was far too busy looking at and pointing to all the glittering lights of the big city to cause any.

##

Christmas Eve after Harold's party was capped off by a treat of eggnog and cookies for the children. Aaron was allowed a small amount of milk in lieu of the nog, as it was still a bit risky to let him have that at his age. However, he was game for a cookie, and with his newfound power in chewing, he made short work of it in no time, chomping and rolling the treat between his lips. The family also had the lights dimmed to put on the Christmas tree, and carols came forth once more from the flatscreen. The house was awash in the spirit of the season, with cinnamon scented potpourri, stockings, and other items about the place. Bear came along, tail wagging furiously, with the family and found himself a perch near the unlit fireplace. If he favored that spot, John would put his dog bedding and toys there. Aaron followed the dog's movement like a hawk while he worked on his cookie.

His little forefinger pointed to the pooch in the corner. Looking back at his mother he uttered, "Dah?"

Joss remarked, "Yes, baby. That's Bear. The dog, yes."

"Neee... _dah_? Da...da.. _dah_?" he asked further.

"Mmm hmm. Bear is our friend, and he's going to have Christmas with us. Hi, Bear!"

Such an admission made the dog even more fascinating to Aaron, as he continued to watch him in the corner, only to tell his mother what he thought upon observation. Bear, for his part, thought it wise to resume his nap from the car, and so he did.

The objects most on Taylor's mind were the presents, however. The tradition of opening one gift before Christmas morning was observed, and after a bit of cajoling, Joss allowed him to go round the tree and pick out a small one, instead of one of the heavier boxes he'd been eyeballing, a gift from one of his great aunts down South.

"Ah, okay," he groaned in mild disappointment. In tearing off Aunt Ginny's silver wrapping, he found the gift inside not to be as bad as he imagined. It was a rather fancy silver pen and planner set, with his name engraved on the pen and the planner cover. It was a very sophisticated gift.

"Oh, that's very nice, T," John said. "You'll have to send your aunt a thank-you card for such a thought."

"Right, Pop. It is really cool. I'll use them right when New Year's hits. Okay, Aaron. Your turn."

Aaron looked up at his brother from his mommy's lap at the sound of his name. He had replaced the cookie with a plastic ball, his attempt at getting it into his mouth faltering at every turn. There was a silent prediction that Bear would have a crack at that ball, once Aaron dropped it to the floor and forgot about it.

John grinned and took Aaron from his mother's arms to walk over to the tree. He would need to lead the baby in the right direction, of course, since his aim had been to knock the poor tree over since they got it.

"Here, Aaron, how about this one?"

The mid-sized package was from his father, and the boy took no time in grabbing hold of the box, which he toddled away from the tree, only to leave it in the middle of the rug before heading off in the direction of the kitchen. John quickly got up to return him to the task at hand, and in helping him tear off the Santa wrapping, they found that daddy had gotten Aaron his very first football.

"Look, Aaron! For all those games we're going to have. Football...yay!"

Aaron, of course, was more interested in the paper and box than what had been in it. As the ball lie to one side, John was confident that, as he got on in the next weeks, he'd at least be able to get Aaron to start tossing it on the floor. After a few moments of play, he picked up his little guy and kissed him.

Hm, I think it's time for bed, guys. Taylor, you got all your things packed for your dad's place tomorrow?" Joss asked.

"Yeah, Ma. All set. You won't miss me too much, will you?"

Joss got up to give her eldest son the biggest hug she could. "Of course, we will. You know it. Merry Christmas, baby."

"Merry Christmas, Ma. And I hope it's okay that Dad comes by to get me tomorrow."

"Of course," Joss replied. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, you know Dad," he replied.

"Yes, I know Dad," she said. "But I don't see why it should be a problem for him to come and pick you up here. I'm fine whatever way."

John, still on the floor with Aaron, cleared his throat. "Your mom's right. It is getting late. I'm gonna go put this kid upstairs to bed. Big day tomorrow."

"Okay, John. Let me give boo nut a kiss," Joss said.

John got up to let her give the baby a big kiss and a squeeze, which he loved, and her effort was rewarded with a big giggle and gooey return. He also gave his brother a gooey too, which Taylor wiped off his cheek with a grimace.

"Yeah, Aaron, I love you, too. Yuuuck!"

Bear hummed in the corner, and the tree glittered and blinked in the dark of the evening. Aaron sang himself upstairs in his daddy's arms, while John gave him kisses and nuzzles of his own.

Christmas Eve at the Carter-Reese brownstone. All was calm, all was bright.

Later that night, as John and Joss snuggled up together under their warm blankets, the plan to return intimacy that was almost realized before Aaron's illness did not come then. However, it was still very much alive and well in their minds and hearts. Soon. Very soon, they silently promised one another, they'd make up for all that lost time. In the meanwhile, they kissed and nuzzled one another, with Christmas greetings and declarations of love, until slumber took them under her wing and gave them blessed sleep.

 **A/N: Christmas morning comes, kids get up early—and Paul actually comes by the brownstone to pick up Taylor, in person. He's still got issues. Uh huh.**

 **Happy weekend, all, and Chap 24 will come soon. Thanks!**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: John and Paul have an exchange. Christmas, though marred by said exchange, continues on. Enjoy, and thanks for all the great comments from Chap 23 and prior. You rock!**

"Mmm...hmmm...oh, man. What the hell...?," John groaned. He was awakened out of a pretty restful sleep by the sounds of a dog barking downstairs. At first, when he got his bearings, he thought they might have an intruder, and he got into vigilante mode as much as he could in his state of near-slumber. At this point, Joss also turned slowly in her sleep, only to catch John slide out of bed to the bedroom door.

"John?"

"I'll see what's going on. Hang on. Merry Christmas."

Joss groaned and half pulled the covers back over her face. "Merry Christmas. And welcome to parenthood."

"You don't say," John grinned as he turned toward her before running a hand through his hair and opening the door.

When he opened the door, he indeed heard Bear barking, but also heard the sounds of the baby and Taylor rustling around downstairs.

"Oooh, Aaron, look! Look what Santa brought you! A new trike bike! Hey, I want a trike bike too..." Aaron joined in the noise, his baby giggles, shouts and squeals matched by Bear's barking in response. John went downstairs in his bare chest and jammie bottoms to see what was happening.

"Oh, hey, Pop! Merry Christmas! Thanks for the watch. It's awesome! Here's something for you. Hope you like it," Taylor exclaimed while shoving a rather hapazardly wrapped present in John's face.

John didn't say anything. He just stood there and smiled, as if to say, "I don't believe you, kid," and slowly took the gift while raising his sleepy eyebrows in mirthful surprise. He looked suitably disheveled for an early Christmas morning—needed a shave, shower, a cup of coffee, the whole nine—but if his children didn't care, than neither did he.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Taylor. And thank you. Come on, Aaron. Let's see what else Santa brought you. Then, maybe I'll brew myself some coffee."

Aaron toddled over to his daddy in his elephant print pajamas and grabbed hold of his leg, cooing in excitement. The gifts under the tree temporarily took his mind off tackling the tree, and while he didnt quite know what it was all about, he was keen to rip and tear paper. He had plenty of gifts. It was all good.

Not long after Taylor had turned on the carols again, and Aaron had gotten to a few more of his presents, including the toddler trike he tried to manipulate as best he could with Daddy's help, Joss emerged from upstairs in her Christmas robe, a kind of variation on the ugly sweater. She gave her two babies and John season's greetings—kisses for their special day—while cautioning John to make sure Aaron didn't tackle the trike from the front. And instead of John making that coffee, she got it started, as well as the rest of their Christmas Day breakfast. The grown up presents would keep, but her boys' appetites wouldn't. Soon, the house was filled with the aromas of the season, as well as her famous hickory bacon, which Bear was more than happy to sample for his own holiday treat.

There was love and light in the Carter-Reese household. Love, light, and a spirit of joy that was theirs to share and cherish with one another. Even without any gifts under that tree, Joss would have been the happiest woman alive to have that. Still, she was.

##

Paul Carter waved goodbye to his wife, Maxine, as he entered the passenger side of his car and got the ignition going. Cold as it was, the engine needed a warm up before he headed over to his old brownstone in Brooklyn to pick up his son. Since it was Christmas, he insisted on getting Taylor right from the house, instead of Taylor's usual preference of him getting dropped off in front of his place in the Bronx.

If Paul was being honest with himself, he was really keen to check things out. He was keen to know how Joss was doing, and, even more so, how this new man who had moved into his son's home—and on with his ex-wife—was holding things together. From the subdued—yet clearly enthusiastic—bits and pieces he got from Taylor, the man named John was a larger-than-life character, a guy his mother was crazy about and someone that his son was equally fond of. Though he tried to sublimate his feelings, Paul knew better. He knew this guy was a force to be reckoned with, and he'd never even met him. The fact that he had been able to get Joss pregnant, not once, but twice—when he had been unable to convince her to have another child with him—rankled him a little bit. Actually, it rankled him a lot. It shouldn't have; he had also moved on to another wife—but it did. He couldn't help it.

But he would keep his cool. He'd try to, anyway. It was Christmas, and this was no time for not doing that. Besides, it was time he met the man who was, by all measures, partially raising his son to manhood.

"I'll be back soon, baby," he called to Maxine and rolled the car into drive mode. Traffic on that Christmas morning was light, even in his neck of the woods. Good. It would make the drive to Brooklyn much easier on his nerves.

##

"Wow, Pop, I really dig my new watch! The camera feature's neat. I'm gonna take a picture of the tree with it, before Aaron manages to knock it down," Taylor humorously quipped after breakfast, showers and presents. All the gifts had been opened, and now the family was relaxing in front of the flatscreen, while Aaron played with one of his many new toys, a kind of spinning top with plastic balls inside that made music when the top was rolled around. He was fascinated with it, and for the last while had been thoroughly kept satisfied by trying to grab it, push it, and pick it up.

"You're welcome, T," John said. "And thank you for the Seahawk jersey and cap. I meant it when I said I needed a new one. Good listener—when you want to be," John smirked.

"Yeah, well, I do my best," Taylor giggled.

For John, Joss had gotten a new tool kit in his very own named box, among other gifts. It was a full set decked out with every kind of wrench and power tool a man could want. He was well-pleased, more so than even she would have guessed. That was great; now he'd be ever more inclined to be the handyman around their home that they'd gotten used to having since he'd moved in with them full-time.

She, however, could not stop staring at the diamond and silver bracelet he'd gotten for her. It was perfect, with two stones buffeting her full name in silver on each side. It was beautiful, the most precious item of jewelry she'd ever had—including the gold engament and wedding bands Paul had given her.

John tried to keep his focus on the baby and his play, but he was pleased beyond punch that Joss was in love with her bracelet. He had begun shopping for it around Halloween, and he had it custom designed with the diamonds, as he knew she'd once wished she could have some one day, an admission offered during one of their many chats over cases and cold coffee at the Lyric Diner. He'd done well. She hugged and kissed him until he thought his cheeks would rub off. For her trouble, she got a groan and complaint from her eldest son about 'mushy stuff' and a squeal and spitball coo from her youngest.

And he was also quite cool with the black leather motorcyle jacket and aviator shades. She knew him very well.

The doorbell rang as they watched the starting kickoff of a local high school holiday football classic. Bear, on alert, raised his head and honed in on the sound from his perch near the fireplace. Taylor got up to answer, as he knew that it was his dad, since he'd gotten the call that Paul would be there soon—and that he should be ready to go when he got there.

Aaron saw his brother get up for the door and whimpered to follow him. It was his new thing now that he could walk; whenever the doorbell rang or Daddy went to get the mail, he just had to be there to see who it was or what was happening outside.

"Come on, Aaron, come get the door with me," Taylor said. Aaron, with rapid purpose, wiggled down from the couch, backwards and belly first, and scampered behind in his little baby blue jeans, stocking feet, and Santa t-shirt, his binky in his mouth.

The door opened with a rush of cold December air. Aaron was actually the first to greet Paul. He looked up at the strange, dark-skinned man with hair on his face with a curious expression, while his binky bobbed up and down.

"Hey, little man. How are you?" Paul said gently, his eyes immediately catching hold of Aaron's darkening hazel ones, his straight dark hair, and sandy brown skin. When he'd seemed to have gleaned as much visual information that he could from this stranger at his door, Aaron fingered his binky, and decided to take it out of his mouth. He then handed it to Paul, cooing and babbling all the while, his own form of Christmas greeting.

"Oh, no, little man," he replied. "That's for you. But thank you." He smiled, genuinely taken with the boy, this child that was Joss' baby and not his. Aaron smiled in response, and after a few more lingering seconds, toddled back over to his mother's space in the living room. Joss and John, for their parts, had their backs to Paul in watching the ball game, but when they heard his exchange with Aaron, they both turned and faced him. Joss smiled. John merely sat quietly, and raised an eyebrow.

"Merry Christmas, Dad. Come on in," Taylor said, breaking the ice and awkward silence that had descended upon the living room. The only sounds within those lingering seconds came from the game announcers, plying their trade on the television, and Aaron, oblivious to the awkwardness, happy in his pursuit of a few plastic blocks for which to pitch at Bear.

"Merry Christmas, son. Wanna come here and give your ole dad a hug?" he asked, his arms outstretched, a bigger than needed grin across his face.

Joss turned more and stood up. Dressed in one of John's big flannel shirts, black leggings and ankle socks, and little makeup, she could see Paul taking in her state of pregnancy, and the gaze made her shudder. She could feel his scathing judgement of her, unspoken, of course, but palpable all the same. A flash of warm anger appeared, and then spread across her body. How dare he come in there and give her that? After all that time, and after everything he'd put her and Tayor through...

"Joss, you look...lovely," he said, nodding his head after his choice of words. "Really lovely. I guess congratulations are in order. When...uh...when is the new bundle due to arrive?"

"First week of March," she replied, her head held high, her chin upturned. "We're very excited."

"Yes, I'm sure you are. And I am I to understand that it's to be a girl?"

"Yes," she replied. "Yes, we're having a daughter, Paul. A sister for Taylor and Aaron."

"Mmm hmm," he murmured. "I'm sure Taylor is pleased with that. When he was little, he used to say how much he always wanted a little brother or sister. You remember that, don't you, Joss? I remember. Wasn't to be, though, was it? Or at least...so it seemed."

At that point, John, who had been quietly studying the other man in Joss' life, stood up to his full height from the sofa and walked over towards him. Paul suddenly found himself face to face with the man who had replaced him in Joss' world, even though they hadn't been a real couple in years.

Paul cocked an eyebrow at first; but decided to temper that with a short smile. "And you must be... _John_ ," he emphasized.

"Yes...how are you, Paul?" he offered, warily but cordially. "Merry Christmas."

"Likewise," Paul replied. The two men extended hands as if they'd just been to war, and now, a shaky truce was being observed. They eyed one another, circling wagons that had been built long before the this meeting was to have taken place, and Joss couldn't remember a graver handshake in all her experience. Aaron, in true form, toddled behind his daddy and clutched onto one of his denim-clad legs, moving to the front of him for a better grip.

However, like the little diplomat he was becoming, Aaron attempted to change the subject. Looking up at John, he began to tap on his legs and babbled at him, no doubt sharing some earth-shattering news that he just had to impart. John looked down at his little boy and grinned, which in turn, caused Paul to grin. When John picked Aaron up, Paul beamed at father and son, or so it seemed.

"He's a fine boy, John," Paul said. "You must be very proud to have him, as I am to have Taylor."

John cuddled Aaron while fixing his gaze on Paul. "Yes. Yes, I am. I've wanted a child, children, for a long time. Thanks to Joss, I have them. I include Taylor in that. He's a very special kid."

Paul's smile flattened on his lips. "Well, now, let's not forget that Taylor has a father already—though I know he is very fond of you, John. Thank you for looking out for him, but..."

"You know, it's funny," John started quietly, interrupting him, the ire in his spirit raised in the face of this man, standing in his living room. "Someone else told me that the other day, to remember that Taylor has a father. Maybe I needed that reminder, I guess. I suppose that's because Taylor and I have such a great relationship that I can forget sometimes. He calls me 'Pop', even. Did you know that, Paul? Maybe you didn't know that."

Paul bristled under the endearment. Taylor stood, off to the side, cringing and hating the whole scene, and wishing that Christmas morning was just over and done with. He'd dreaded this for months, and did what he could to avoid it. When he thought his dad was coming around, he agreed to his picking him up from the brownstone, albeit cautiously. But he was deliberately goading John, while John did a bit of goading on his own—though he was completely justified. He loved his father—but he just had a way of bringing out the fight in other people.

"Can we just...go, Dad? I've got my bag ready, like you told me to. Come on. I want to see what I got at the house under the tree. Nikes..." he trailed off, in trying to lighten the tension.

"Maybe that would be a good idea," Joss chimed in, the blood in her veins now running hot and cold at the same time.

"All right then. Sure. Yeah, let's go. I think it's time I got to spend Christmas with _my_ son. He obviously needs that too," he said, a definite hint of dissatisfaction in his voice. "Joss, again you look lovely. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Paul. And Merry Christmas to you," she said in a shaky voice. The fact that she seemed afraid somehow made John angry. One of the most fearless people he'd ever known on the battlefields of the streets, and her ex-husband, a man who proclaimed love for her at one time, was making her tremble in his presence.

"Okay, Dad. Let me get my coat and I'm ready to bounce," Taylor said. His own eyes darted back and forth between his mother, his father, and John. Then, after a nervous pause, he headed to the hall closet and got his winter gear on.

Paul looked down at his watch and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, this was...a nice meeting. We should do this more formally, perhaps, some other time. Maybe once the baby is born."

"Why, Paul?" Joss asked. "Taylor's fine."

"You sure about that, Joss? Because I'm not so sure. It's looking as if our son might be conflicted, and as his father, I don't like it."

"He is not 'conflicted,' Paul. He knows who his father is. I have never gotten in the way of that, and you know it—even if I would have been well within my rights to," Joss said, the steel in her voice unmistakeable.

"I think Taylor's old enough now to know what he wants," John chimed in, while still holding a wiggly, drooly Aaron. "Why don't you ask him if he's okay or not?"

"Okay. I'll do that. And we'll see."

"Dad, come on. I'm ready," Taylor said from behind him, shaking his head.

Paul reached the door. At the same time, Taylor walked over to his mother to give her a hug and kiss before leaving.

"Have a good time, baby. Listen to your dad and make sure you get your chores done, just the same as here. Okay? I love you, honey. Merry Christmas."

"I love you, too, Ma. It's okay. Dad's just being dad. Merry Christmas."

He left her embrace and walked over to John and Aaron.

"Can I hold him...Pop?"

"Sure, son," John replied, saying it loudly enough for Paul to have caught it.

Taking a hold of Aaron, Taylor kissed his little brother and gave him a big squeeze. For his trouble, he got a dig in the face with Aaron's sharp little fingernails.

"Oww, Aaron. Ma, he needs another trim! But that's okay. I love you too, Aaron. I'll be back soon, and we can play football. Be good, okay?"

"Booomgooommbuuh.." Aaron replied. That was good enough for Taylor.

"Here, Pop," Taylor said, handing him back. "Thanks...for the watch, again."

John watched his face intently, and the slight discord he knew Taylor was feeling translated very clearly. He wrapped his palm and fingers around the boy's neck in a gentle yet somewhat distant embrace.

"It's okay, Taylor. Everything's okay. You have a good time, and we'll see you in a few days. Love you, son."

Taylor smiled. It was a smile of understanding, of all the miles they had been through over the last couple years as a family. "Yeah, Pop. You too."

"Come on, Taylor. We gotta go," Paul said.

Grabbing his backpack and presents, Taylor and Paul went to the door. When Aaron realized that his big brother was going somewhere without him, he began to call out for him.

"Ya'yo...Ya'yo..." he repeated over and over.

"Little man, I'll be back. I'll see you soon."

But Aaron soon became nearly inconsolable. John held him close as he cried, almost softly, hiccuping his sadness as if he'd just arisen from a nap.

"Bye, Aaron. Be good, okay? See you guys. Give my love to Grandma."

"Will do, T," Joss said. She walked over to the door to let them out. As they headed to the car, the cold air of December cut across her, chilling her body to the bone. But she stayed there. She stayed until the car went down the streets and she couldn't see it anymore.

The door closed, she turned to face John, who was still holding a crying Aaron.

"You'll see him soon, baby," she said in a soft voice. "It's all right..."

John slowly turned his head to face her. She knew that look. It wasn't a good one.

"You damn well sure do know how to pick 'em, Joss."

"What's that supposed to mean, John?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. You know what? It's Christmas. I think I'm going to get Aaron dressed and take him and Bear for a walk."

"In this weather? Don't you think it's a little cold for him?"

"Can't be any chillier than it is in this house right now. And besides, Bear will need to go out soon."

"John..." she began, trying to plead Paul's case a little, or maybe her own, "That's just Paul. He's stubborn and jealous and-"

"Okay," he said, cutting her off. "I don't care. I'm taking Aaron for a walk. You wanna come, too?"

She ran a hand through her pinned hair. At the same time, the baby kicked in her belly. "No. No, I think I should try to tidy up some of these toys and then take a rest before we head over to Mom's place. Aaron should get his nap, too."

"He will. Okay, we're going. Won't be long. A little buggy ride might cheer him up."

"Okay. John?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry Christmas got ruined."

John looked at her and smiled. "You didn't ruin anything. You did what you thought best. And it is what it is. Paul Carter is a cross we have to bear. But, whatever." He bent down to kiss her soundly on the lips, his words perhaps a bit more confident than he actually felt.

"Merry Christmas, Joss."

"Merry Christmas, John."

"Maah-meee," Aaron said between weeps.

She sank into John's one-armed embrace, while Aaron got a hold of her ear. It would be okay. At least, she hoped it would.

##

"Real cool, Dad. Thanks for the embarrasment," Taylor smirked from the passenger seat of the car.

"What embarassment? No my fault if your mother has lost her fool mind."

"What?" Taylor sat up at attention at that one.

"You heard me. What's she doing having more babies at her age? Aaron's a cute kid, but hell, you could have had siblings that were only a few years younger than you are with me. Instead, your younger brother is half your age, and your sister ain't even here yet! Guess your ole dad wasn't good enough for the job after you, huh? That's what she's saying. Couldn't stand the idea of having more kids with her own husband. Well, wouldn't you say?"

"Dad, that's not true, and you know it. She tried to make it work with you, but you couldn't do the one thing she asked of you. Get help for your problems. Ah, man, it's Christmas! Why we have to do this now? Can you just stop?"

"Yeah, I'll stop. I'll stop it all."

"What do you mean?"

Paul's hands gripped the wheel. "What I mean is that since they're starting up a nursery in there, maybe you ought to think about living somewhere else. How much room you think there'll be for you now?"

"Are you serious? Live somewhere else? You mean like with you?"

"Yes! Yes, with me. Why not? There's plenty of space at my house. You know that. And your stepmother would like to get the chance to know you better."

"Aww, come on, Dad. We've had this chat before. I'm not leaving Ma and that's final."

Paul sucked his teeth before turning on the intersection towards their street. "We'll see, Taylor. We'll see. I think it's time you came to live with me—but sure, we'll see. Oh, and by the way, that white man in your mother's house is not your 'Pop'. You just get that foolishness out of your head right now. You are my son. The only son I am likely to have, and I won't have some other man usurping my role in your life. You understand?"

Taylor looked out the window. All the buildings and metal works of the city passed by in a blur. His hear beat in his ears.

He decided to just stop talking. He might not even talk once they got out of the car. He might not talk for the rest of the holiday.

It was a real shame that such a great Christmas had turned into such a bad one. He had no choice but to get through it the best he could, while trying to remember that Paul Carter was his father—and that, as a son, he was supposed to love him no matter what. No one ever said that had ever been easy. It never had been.

 **A/N: No wonder Taylor had tried to keep the distance. And no wonder Joss left him. He was a jerk before the issues in the military, but Joss had been lovestruck, and the combat had only exacerbated the situation.**

 **Not the kind of stress Joss needs right now. But it was Christmas, and they thought to make a peace offering. What's that about good intentions?**

 **Thanks for keeping up with it all. Not too long before the baby will make her arrival! Will be fun to see how Aaron adjusts to it all. Stay tuned!**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: John and Aaron get some air and a little Christmas treat. Emotions run high between John and Joss once they get back home. This one's kind of lengthy, so I hope you have a little time on your hands for it all (but then, when aren't my chaps long as heck, haha?). As usual, thank you for reading and enjoying the journey thus far. Sorry for any typos.**

"Waaa' too...waa'toom, dah-deeee...umuhh myyy..."

Aaron softly cried and spoke to his father, while John, completely in love with his son—but steadfast—shook his head in understanding and gentle refusal.

"No, baby," he said softly, a knowing, pensive smile on his face. "It's too hot for you to have some. I'm sorry."

Aaron's sad eyes widened, while fat tears, which threatened to spill, filled them. He went quieter at his daddy's pronouncement that the hot chocolate he'd bought for himself wasn't fit for him to share. It was indeed too hot—almost too hot for John to drink. A little cold milk had done wonders, but it was still not fit for Aaron to have any.

While he seemed, on the surface, to take the bad news in stride, having a look around the small delicastessen that served as one of their unofficial neighborhood hangouts, Aaron was only taking a breather. After a few seconds of observation and hair pulling, he began to get fussy again—whining here, sighing there, pleading here—until his daddy, broken hearted by his little boy's distress relented on the hot chocolate, to a point. Too hot for the baby to have a little from the cup, John had another idea.

"Ali, my friend," he called, in good spirits, "could I have half a dozen of your cake doughnuts?"

Ali, the owner, and oddly enough, a former number of Team Machine's, gladly found six freshly made doughnuts for him in the bakery case, and wrapped them up in tissue paper before brown bagging them. Walking them over to the table from behind the counter, he smiled at Aaron, and noticed the little guy's face.

John made a point of pulling out his wallet, so as to pay for the doughnuts and the hot chocolate. As usual, Ali refused whatever John's payment was for any food received. John would insist, Ali wouldn't hear of it. However, John always found ways to sneak money underneath the counters, so that Ali would be sure to get it. It was a dance they'd done many times over the intervening months.

Ali, in turn, would take the money and donate it to the local food pantry, along with a few donations of his own. All in all, it was a most interesting process.

"Oh, _mawlud,"_ he said, softly. "What is the matter?"

"A case of wanting whatever Daddy has to eat or drink, I'm afraid, even if he doesn't really like it all that much. Cocoa is not one of those things, however," John said, smirking and nodding in the direction of the hot chocolate. "Happens quite a bit, actually."

Ali laughed. "Yes, I know that one. My two little daughters, they are the same. I can eat nothing on my own at home! But if I make them plates of their own, they don't want them. Kids, eh?"

John laughed in kind. "Yes. They often don't make a lot of sense, do they?"

"I suppose they make sense to themselves, my friend," Ali replied. "Here are your doughnuts. Eh, would you like a little more milk for the chocolate, too?"

"Yes, that would be good, thanks," John replied.

"Coming right up." To Aaron, "it's okay, _mawlud._ Today is a happy day. Christmas, no?"

Aaron stopped his fussing for just a moment to acknowledge Ali. The deli owner was a portly older man with grey hair and sun-kissed skin, much like Aaron's. He had left his native Syria decades earlier, and had been in the delicatessen business for many years before a gang of well-dressed thugs tried to shake him down out of his life's work—and a certain _Man in the Suit_ and his bespectacled partner put a stop to it. It hadn't made him rich; however, he had managed to have a very good life in Queens, raising two children to adulthood, and two others younger still, with his wife Malia.

Aaron continued to stare while blowing a spit bubble here and there, and making propeller noises with his bow mouth and chubby cheeks. He was observant to a fault, just like his detective mother and vigilante-soldier father, and the deli owner never failed to catch his gaze whenever he and his father went for a visit.

However, his attention span was still that of a near-fourteen-month-old baby, and accordingly, his sights were then caught on the blinking neon sign outside the deli that signaled to any and all stragglers on this Christmas Day that the Corner Store Delicatessen was open for business. He made a gesture towards it while looking back at Daddy for acknowlegement of the sign's existence.

"So, my friend," Ali said, "other than the joys and pains of fatherhood, how are you? It has been a few months since you've come in with the little one. Are you finding things well?"

"Yes, everything's great," John answered, with a pensive smile. It was the truth. In fact, not since the incident at Montauk Beach where he learned in that harrowing way that Joss was carrying their third child had anything really been amiss in his life. Nothing could be better—even with the headahces and challenges of parenting and expectant fatherhood.

"Ah, you seem...happy, my friend. At peace. At long last. So, does this really mean no more living the life of the guardian angel?"

"No, my friend. No, time for that anymore. Joss and the kids need me. Especially now that our family is growing even bigger. A man does not have nine lives to spare when his family needs him."

Ali brightened. "Yes. Yes, this is true. You are to be blessed with another child very soon, no?"

John smiled and nodded his head in confirmation, in that proud and satisfied way that a man does when discussing his future offspring with another man who is also a father.

"Ah, how wonderful for you. And you, _mawlud!"_ Ali said, referrring to Aaron again.

John leaned in slowly then, gravely, his gaze fixed on Ali.

"And how are you? I haven't heard of any issues on the street concerning the Maldano crime syndicate that would give you anymore trouble. But of course, I've been out of the loop a little bit. Has anyone tried to contact you that we didn't clamp down on before? Any unorthodox communications? We dampened their energy, but we didn't put them completely out of business."

Ali sighed and shook his head. "No, John, thank Allah. I have had no problems since you intervened on my behalf. Forever grateful to you and your associates for all of your help. Without you, my family and I might be dead. Certainly, I would have been out of my livelihood here."

"You're a good man, Ali. You and your family deserve peace and happiness. I was just glad to be able to help."

"You, too, are a good man, John. I knew it even before we spoke officially, before you came to tell me of what you and your associates knew of my situation. It was Allah's will."

"Well," John said. "I'm not sure of that, but I thank you for the sentiment."

"Perhaps it is also Allah's will that you take this time for your family? A greater purpose in store?"

John reached down to pull up a bib from Aaron's carriage to fasten around his neck in anticipation of the mess to come. "Perhaps that's so, Ali. Perhaps. I do know that I'm happy. Happier than I've been in a long time."

"I'll get you the milk, my friend," Ali said with a knowing and affectionate nod.

"Thanks, Ali," John replied.

When John got the refill for his chocolate, he took a little more of it to the sweet brown mixture, turning it a light tan color. He tried it. As he suspected, it was still a little too hot for Aaron, but if Daddy gave him a piece of doughnut dipped in the chocolate, he'd be able to share with him, while still not getting his little tongue and mouth burned.

Taking out a doughnut from the bag while never taking his eyes off Aaron, John grinned as he watched his boy react to what seemed like an even better deal than the hot chocolate. Aaron sat up at attention in his baby carriage, and began to kick his little feet where he sat. He also put out a hand to grasp the doughnut, while pleading his case for such a yummy snack.

"Meee aaahh...uuummmuh...yaaa...daaaah-dee...dah, dah..."

"Okay, okay, son. I know. Just hang on a second. Let Daddy have a taste first," he said.

Breaking the treat in half, John dipped one piece in the hot chocolate, careful to do so on the side that still had whipped cream, took a small test bite, and proceeded to put the rest to his boy's mouth, upon finding it sound. He could hardly give it to him fast enough before Aaron's little fists opened and grabbed the pastry out of his hand. John laughed more. No one could ever say his boy didn't eat good.

Bear, who was a hearty dog, waited patiently outside, leash tied to the front pole. There was little to no wind then, so his remaining outside, acting as their sentry, wasn't so big a problem. They would go soon as it was-though Bear loved being outside-so his exposure to the elements would be curtailed.

Aaron happily nibbled on the doughnut dipped in hot chocolate. In his joy, he extended his arm and hand, in a gesture of sharing more with Daddy. While the doughnut had seen better days before Aaron had gotten said hand on it, John gladly obliged him, dipping his mouth down and taking just another tiny bite of the food his son fed him.

"Mmmm, thank you. So yummy!" he said. At that point, John found his phone and decided to roll the vid camera on Aaron while he ate. Tormenting him with it when he was older was an absolute certainty.

"Aaron, over here. Yum, yum, yuummm! Say hi, Aaron!"

Aaron continued nibbling on the doughnut and looked up at his father, before breaking out into a happy squeal and bounce in his carriage. He took a big bite, losing some of it to the floor, earnestly rolling and chewing the cake with deliberate purpose, as best he could. His teething drool mixed in with the sweet treat made a mess of his chubby cheeks. Thank goodness for baby bibs, his father thought.

John, while still filming, grabbed the diaper bag from the handle of the stroller, deciding that he needed a little something more nutitious for his son's snack besides doughnuts. Rustling through a number of small and tasty portions Joss had packed before they headed out on their walk, he found the baby bowl of homemade apple sauce and spoon, along with containers of strained baby peas and mashed sweet potatoes, cut chicken nugget pieces, and Aaron's sippy cup of water.

"Oooh, lookit, Aaron. See what Mommy sent you! Nom, nom, nom. Oh, you're lucky. Yes, sir! You've got your chicken nuggets and your favorite, sweet potatoes. You know, I wish Mommy had made me a lunch like this. Hmm, maybe you can share with your old man?" John asked, while managing to get in a few kisses and nuzzles while Aaron wiggled and tapped atop the carriage tray.

"Aboozzz..mmmm," Aaron replied, his curiosity now piqued by the containers Daddy was pulling out with one hand.

John grinned. "Okay, son. It's all yours."

John soon switched off the video on his phone and got Aaron's meal ready. He had been able to get hold of a plastic platter from Ali, which would make serving a little easier, though Ali had apologized for not having any available high chairs. John was fine though, considering the many times he had fed Aaron while watching the news or football on TV. He'd certainly make do there.

It was also necessary to pull Aaron out of the stroller, so as to feed him on John's lap, from the table. The snowsuit and sweater would also have to come off.

Aaron had no problems switching gears on snack, which had actually turned into his lunch time. He loved his finger food nugget pieces just the same, and was even cool with Daddy feeding him apple sauce with the spoon, instead of trying to do it himself. He was only partially keen on the peas, but he ate his fill of them before turning his nose away for any more. He indeed loved sweet potatoes.

When Aaron was finished, John got out the wipes to clean his hands and face.

"You full now, son? Yeah? That should hold you until we get to Grandma's for supper." He made a few googly faces at him—which surely made Aaron giggle—before leaning down once again to run his fingers through his hair and plant yet another little kiss on his lips. Aaron had to be the most kissed baby in the world at that point.

Aaron cooed at Daddy, while once again exploring the deli and focusing on no one thing in particular for very long. He then returned his attention to his sippy cup of water.

"Thirsty, son? Here. Here's your water," John said.

John watched his son while he sat back against his daddy's belly and sucked down his water. He sighed. It would be time for them to head back home soon. Hopefully, Joss had been able to rest a while before they all made their way to Corinne's for Christmas dinner. The fact that there would be one less place to set for the table recast the pall over the occasion for John. The memory of the brief yet terse exchange between himself and Paul Carter made the pall even heavier.

Having had the walk with Aaron and Bear helped to clear his mind a little as they passed tree lined Brooklyn streets, practically deserted on that holiday morning. As Bear tottered along, John pushed the carriage through the park, and then, the basketball court he and Taylor practiced their game year-round on and where they had only just done so but a few days before, cold weather be damned.

Of course, he knew that he wasn't Taylor's biological father. Taylor knew that John wasn't his biological father. But the fact of the matter was, they had a bond, a very close bond. All of them, with Joss being the center of that, the connector that held all of them together. He was a part of her, her first-born child; he was a part of Aaron as his older brother. And he was a part of John, too, as the child of the woman he loved more than life itself. And it was more than likely because of the fierce love she had for both of them, for all of them, that made the relationship between Taylor and John so special.

They were family. Whether or not there was a genetic connection, they were family. Taylor was like a son to him, and he would do anything for him, just as he would Aaron and their impending little girl. And Taylor knew that John loved him, and he John in kind—which is why he went out of his way to keep his father from having anything to do with his "Pop." He didn't want to be caught in the middle of that. He didn't want John to be hurt for joining up with him and his mom; didn't want his mother to have to answer for that, to be punished for moving on with someone else after so long. But of course, all that happened. He just hoped to God that Taylor was all right, and would still manage to have a good few days with his dad, despite what had taken place in their living room.

But it wasn't in John's nature to let that kind of thing slide. From that point on, he had bones to pick with Paul Carter. Himself, he didn't care about. But Joss and the kids? Dealbreaker. And unlike Paul, he would do his best to be respectful of Taylor, while making sure that his lady and his children were protected.

That conversation wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

But still, something gnawed at him, something that he and Joss hadn't much discussed, but that, with Paul in the picture, hung over the wonderful life that had just now began to hit its stride.

His thoughts returned to Joss. They would have to talk. Air needed clearing. On Christmas of all days, yes. But it had to be. It wasn't something he looked forward to, however.

John returned his attention to Aaron, who had found his binky on top of the carriage bar and was now contentedly sucking away on it, having discarded the sippy cup. He shook his head and sighed again, while the deli door opened and a patron came through. Up to that point, it had only been John and Aaron in the establishment, the Christmas holiday making business slow, even in multifaith Brooklyn. It was just about that time to go and get Bear out of the cold. The little guy also hadn't had his nap, and that would be a necessity if he was to be in any shape for Corinne's later that afternoon.

"Hasn't been too bad a Christmas, though, has it, son? I mean, you got your trike and your football, and you got doughnuts. And Grandma has some special treats for you too. Speaking of which, we better get going. Naptime, honey," he said, gently tickling his chin and giving him a nuzzle before getting his hat and other winter items ready for their departure.

Aaron gave his daddy a slow, big binky smile just before breaking out into a double sneeze. The goo from his nose bubbled out, and John growled and made another face at him as he wiped the goo away.

"Grrrrrr...my son, the snot factory. You just gotta love it. And I do. I do love it," he said, in his best Mr. Magoo impression. Then, more googly eyes and silly Daddy voices to make Aaron laugh, which only failed sometimes.

##

Once it was all put to rights, John packed the remaining treats, got Aaron dressed, and cleared off their table before shaking hands with and waving goodbye to Ali. He wheeled Aaron out of the deli. Bear, upon seeing them both, stood and wagged his tail furiously while John got him unhooked from the pole only to hook his leash to the carriage.

Before departure, however, John's phone rang. It was Joss.

"Hey," he answered.

"Hey," she replied. "Where are you guys?"

"We're just on our way out of the deli, heading back home. You okay? The baby okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. We're fine. I was just wondering where you were. Aaron being a good boy?"

"Always. He just had some lunch from the bag, and a doughnut. He's golden."

"A doughnut?" she asked, grinning. "Oh, I bet he is. I can hear him being all hyper right now."

"No, he's okay. Mellow."

"John?"

"Mm hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry about, babe?"

"About...not knowing how to pick 'em."

John closed his eyes, remembering the little jab he threw at her in light of Paul's boorishness.

"John? You still there?"

"Yeah. Well, I shouldn't have said that. I mean, if you hadn't picked him, we wouldn't have Taylor—and I wouldn't trade him for anything in this world."

"He is a great kid."

"That's because of you, sweetie."

"Thanks. Are you guys on your way?"

"Yeah. Aaron's gotta get his nap, Bear's getting frosty paw, so we'll be home in a little bit."

"Great," she replied, a tone of relief in her voice. "I'll see you then."

"Joss?"

"Yes, John?"

"I love you. Merry Christmas."

"You too, baby. I love you, too. Merry Christmas, John."

"We'll see you soon, okay? Aaron sure misses his mommy."

She hesitated for a moment, and if John didn't know any better, he'd have thought he heard the choke of a sob.

"Joss?"

"I miss him, too. And you. And Taylor. Hurry home, John."

##

When they got home, Bear scampered back to his corner near the fireplace, the warm bedding John left for him most welcome after the cool temps of outside. There were also a few doggie treats left for him, which he was also happy to get, and he settled himself in while partaking of his own snack.

Aaron, as his father suspected he would, began to get drowsy as they walked the eight blocks back to the brownstone. John's first order of business upon getting home was to get Aaron out of the carriage so he could be promptly put down upstairs for his nap. If he snapped out of it, it could be hard to get him back to sleep—and that would be a nightmare at Grandma's house.

Before he could get Aaron upstairs to put him down for his nap, however, Joss appeared, slowly walking out of the kitchen towards him. Her eyes were warm and wet, her face a quiet jumble of emotions.

"Hi," he said first, quietly. "We're home."

"Yeah. Yeah, you are."

He stood there, holding Aaron, rooted to his spot at the door. In his jeans and peacoat, he'd forgotten to wear his warm hat, and his salt-and-pepper hair was plastered loosely about his head. His nose had turned red, as had his cheeks, and he had the appearance of someone much younger, almost like a rather handsome Santa's helper. Aaron wasn't asleep at this point, but he was well on his way. However, upon hearing Joss' voice, his head popped up from John's shoulder and he waved slowly at her.

"Maaahh-meee," he said.

"Hi, baby" she said, a shy smile on her face, her voice unsteady as she walked over closer to them. "Did you have a good time with Daddy? I know you were a good boy. You're always my sweet, good boy. I'm so glad to see you."

"Yes, he was wonderful. Joss? Are you sure you're okay?"

Aaron in his sleepiness, and still in his snowsuit, reached out to take hold of his mother's shoulder, essentially transferring himself from his father's arms to hers. He sighed then, and snuggled up in the crook of her neck, rest now his for the taking.

And then, it all tumbled away. Joss' face crumbled into sadness, a sadness John hadn't much seen with her before, save for the odd pregnant mood swing. He had a feeling it was more than that, this time. And his own heart crumbled in tenderness and love in the face of it.

"Come here, baby," she brokenly sobbed while taking hold of Aaron. "That's it, baby. Come to Mommy..."

"Oh, sweetie." John responsed swiftly, catching both of them in his arms. Joss let it go then, let herself go, and as John's arms enfolded her and Aaron, she cried louder, clutching both her son and her man as carefully as she could.

"Oh, sweetie," he repeated over and over, now stroking her hair. "It's okay. Everything's okay. I'm here now. I'm here."

"John..."

"Yes, it's all right. I love you, Jocelyn. I love you. I love you so much."

He concluded his declaration with a kiss to her forehead, then her cheeks, and finally, her lips, the warm kisses mingling with fat, salty tears.

And he continued to kiss and hold his lady and their son, while their daughter gently kicked in Joss' belly.

The feel of her kicking was enough to garner a smile, a momentary respite from the turmoil she was feeling.

"Our little girl is awake, just as her brother is falling asleep," he grinned. "I guess I better get used to that."

Joss sniffed and grinned in kind. But the conflict from earlier on continued to wear on her heart.

"I don't why or how he can still get to me, John," Joss said, between quieter, yet still audible sobs. "After all these years, and all the effort to be civil for Taylor's sake, I just don't know why that ass can still have the power to make me doubt myself and the choices I've made. The main choice being getting rid of him in divorce was right. I know that. He didn't know how to be a good husband after a while. But he is Taylor's father, and I kept that relationship strained for so long because of our issues. Maybe that wasn't right? I don't know. I never know. Oh, God..."

It tore at John's heart to hear her beat herself up this way. That feeling was only just slightly surpassed by the lethal violence he was feeling towards Paul Carter.

But that thing that gnawed at him, that played on his mind showed itself then, with Joss' confession. And the conversation he'd been dreading was creating an avenue for intrusion.

"Listen, Joss. Listen to me," he said, looking dead square into her eyes. "I know the kind of woman you are. I know you better than anyone. And I'm telling you, there is no greater woman on this earth. Do you hear me? Paul Carter is a damned fool. His foolishness is my gain. He knows it. But he also knows he can get to you still, by hitting your vulnerable spots. But then-"

He stopped himself and became suddenly subdued.

"But then what, John? What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Not important."

"No, John, what is it?" she pressed. Aaron sighed again, and she held him closer.

He took a deep breath before answering, and for a second, wouldn't look at her directly.

"It's just that—my question is, why are those spots still so vulnerable?"

"What do you mean, John?" she asked, tears still falling from her eyes.

"I mean, me. Aaron. The fact that what we have is not 'traditional' in any sense, as much as we try—and succeed, I think—in giving him and Taylor the most stable and loved lives possible. The fact that, , in reality, to the rest of the world, save for our friends who understand, I'm a dead man. And that if I weren't I could be in a cage in any number of hell holes in any number of foreign countries. Hell, even as bullshit as it sounds, the fact that I'm white. The ladies in your church aren't the only ones who stare at us and our sons, and wonder what the hell is going on. It's everywhere, even in a city like New York. That's what I mean."

Joss froze, the blood in her veins seemingly stopping its run. More tears fell, as she couldn't believe what she thought she was hearing.

"John...really? Are you saying...you feel paranoid? About us?"

John hastily pulled off his leather peacoat and threw it on the bannister. Returning to the issue at hand, he spread his hands in a gesture of mild despair .

"Joss, no. No, I'm not. I'm—I just—"

"Just what, John?" she pressed further, not sure she really wanted to hear his response, but needing to hear it all the same.

"I just...I just wonder if sometimes...you're not paranoid about me. At least outside this house."

She stared at him for long seconds, an expression of defiant terror on her face, before wordlessly turning towards the stairwell with Aaron, who was still clad in his snowsuit, but was fully, blissfully asleep. It was probably for the best, as it looked as if his parents were about to have an argument that he really didn't need to be witness to.

"Joss?" he called after her. "Joss, wait!"

"I need to put our boy down in his bed for nap," she said, while not stopping, her voice unsteady. John hastily followed behind her.

"Joss, come on. Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

She continued on, until she had Aaron on their bed to get his snowsuit off. She was careful to do so gently, so as not to wake him, even while her vision was blurred and hot tears fell on the zipper. When he was free, he wiggled in his sleep and stretched his hands over his head before he was still again. She got him to his crib and covered him with his blanket with a kiss, all the while silent in the face of John. He, in turn, followed her, determined to not let this drop, now that it had been raised.

"Joss, talk to me. Dammit, tell me how you're feeling," he implored.

"Why, John? All the time I've known you, I've had to pry shit out of you like I was pulling teeth. What you were feeling; how you and Finch got your information for those cases we worked on; who the woman was in your past that had made all the difference for you and how you lived your life. You never volunteered any of that. Remember? I had to find out on my own, until we got closer and you decided to let me in more. But by that point, I'd figured out at least some of that the way a good detective can. I still don't know how you and Finch got your information though...at least not exactly, anyway."

That last part she said quietly, her head turning away abruptly before he could, at last, betray himself. He wasn't in that life now, so it didn't matter. No, it didn't matter anymore.

"I had thought those days were long over. That if you had a problem with me or something you needed to get off your chest, we could be open about it, since we're raising children together now. But I guess I was wrong. And it what it sounds like to me is that it is you being paranoid," she replied, while brushing past him.

"Joss, that's not true, and you know it. I trust you completely. See, I knew getting into this would be a bad idea. But we're here now, and..." John protested, as quietly as he could while the baby rested.

"Well, John, you know, I'm sorry if I make you feel like I don't care about you when we're out in public, if that's what you think. Or that I still have some lingering feelings of anything other than contempt for Paul. He is a source of great stress, but it's not about you, baby. Paul's crap is his own doing, and he's been doing it for years. It does affect me and Taylor. I'm sorry, but it does. But then, I suppose I'm just not as good at keeping people at bay from my feelings the way you are. So much more inconvenient, much messier to let that get in the way. Yeah, you sure can pick 'em, too, huh?"

"Joss, don't..."

"I don't have any problem with you, John!" she stated emphatically, imploringly, but as quietly as that would allow, in consideration of a sleeping Aaron. "I love you. You are the man I have been looking for my entire life. Did I think you'd come in the package that you do? Hell no! But that's the funny thing about life—and what makes it all worthwhile. I love everything about you, John, even the shit that drives me nuts. But if you're a fool who wants to doubt my feelings, or to think that I'm somehow ashamed of you, then maybe you and Paul have a lot more in common than I thought."

Her words were thrown at him to wound him, and they worked. She wanted to wound someone. She wanted to wound Paul. But in some ways, that didn't even make sense, since Paul Carter was just being the way he'd been after the first few years of their marriage, and ever more so after his discharge from the military. She had been strong enough to confront and divorce him, but now? Now, he could push her buttons. It really made no sense.

It was the baby. All those mood swings and hormone fluctuations and weird cravings were coming to bear all at that moment. She'd had her weepy spells. She'd had her swollen ankles. She'd had all of it. When she was pregnant with Aaron, it was all about being ready for a nap at the drop of a hat. Fetuses had a way of making the most routine headaches larger than life. Paul was a routine headache. All the same—still a big headache.

"Okay. I deserved that," he sighed, his hands spread in a gesture of helplessnes. "I'm sorry. Look, tell me what to do. Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how to make it better, and I will. Or spend the rest of my life trying to figure it out. Please."

She stopped at the break in his own voice, and suddenly, her anger at him was all gone, dissolved and drawn away like a retreating wave at the shore.

His face was ashen. The wetness she remembered from so many close encounters with the innocent dead at the hands of perps caught too late; from the stolen joys of expectant fatherhood when she was carrying Aaron; the birth and its aftermath, when he was able to rock his baby boy to sleep in his earliest weeks.

She let go of a sigh, while more tears fell from her eyes. "Just...just hold me, John Reese. I'm just...he does, you know. He does...get to me. Pushes those buttons, still. But it's...not because of you. It's me. I'm still trying to shake off..."

"Shake off, what, Joss?"

"That sense of...failure. I failed. I failed myself. I failed my baby. Taylor deserved better than what he got in our marriage. He did. He does. And I ruined that. Paul and I both did. But I did it more. I did it more..."

John could stand no more of her recriminations. He gently, wordlessly rushed over to her side to pull her up from the bed to do as she'd bade him. To hold her. To hold her and stroke her hair and back, to press her full belly against his body. To make it all better.

"Shhhh...shhh..." he whispered. "Quit it. Come on, quit it now...I'm not gonna let you do this to yourself, sweetheart. He's done it enough. And it stops. It stops right here."

"John..." She crumbled again, in his arms, allowing his strength to hold her up, as he willed her.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. And yeah, I do know how to pick 'em, baby. Because I been waiting for you all my life, too. And I held out, kept my heart close to me—until I met you. And until I got you. The best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Oh, John," she breathed, shaking.

Their eyes met in the languid space of love. She reached up to stroke his cheek, which he caught in his hand to kiss, much like the night HR nearly destroyed them both. He closed his eyes against the warmth of her soft skin, and held it there, until he replaced her hand with her own lips. He then placed her hand on his heart, the blood pumping strong and sure through the navy blue pullover, his chest rising and falling against her.

"You got my heart, Joss. Probably from the day I first saw you through that precinct window, you've had my heart. Even if I didn't know it at the time. Even if I did everything I could to run away from you then."

She smiled. "You didn't run all that far."

"Well, no, I didn't. Perhaps I wanted you to catch me. There was just a city to see about first. Maybe I wanted you to see that I could be a good man, despite everything I'd done."

"John?"

"Mmm hmm?" he hummed while wrapping both arms around her waist and inhaling the scent of her hair.

"Aaron's asleep, and..."

"And?"

"And we have this time, and this space and..."

John smirked at her before dipping his head to cut her off with a kiss. Upon breaking the contact, he touched his forehead to hers, but kept his eyes closed.

"Joss...I know we talked about this before...but are you sure Dr. Tillman says it's okay?"

Joss dipped her lips to catch his again, briefly, before wrapping her arms around his neck. "Yes, John. Our little girl is doing fine, I'm fine, thanks to you, and there's no reason we-"

"Good," he said, "because, honestly, if we start it up, I don't think I could stop..."

"Then, don't, John. Don't stop."

They caught one another's lips once more, but this time the kiss they shared was fraught with an urgency like that of two people starved for food. John's tongue slid into Joss' mouth, and with a whimper, she answered with her own, until the two lovers found themselves caught up in the maelstrom of desire that had been held at bay for months.

It wasn't long before John destroyed his own flannel shirt in pulling it off her body, while she in turn pulled and wrestled him out of his pullover and shirt, baring his naked torso to her gaze. She feverishly ran her hands across his chest, his belly, and his shoulders, the need to touch his skin suddenly so strong, she could barely contain herself. John, in turn, lifted his hands and found the curve of her maternity bra, the full and luscious breasts straining against the fabric, the nipples and areaolas clearly visible. His fingertips found them with a groan, and his eyes were suddenly hot fire, appearing drunk with the possibility of promise behind her bra.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered breathlessly, while moving to palm her full, pregnant belly, only to return to the maternity bra and back to her belly again. He was barely holding on to what little control he had, but he still wouldn't take a chance on rushing when their unborn babe was a factor in the proceedings. However, with her there, in her full splendour, the glow of her body unmistakably female, it was a monumental task to slow it down a little.

"You know, at the risk of killing this mood, I really have to say something," he began, a lilt of playful yet earnest seduction in his now deepened voice.

"Oh?" she replied, as much in response to his fingers weaving magic spells on her skin as to his statement. "What...what did you wanna say?"

"What I said before. That your ex-husband really is damned fool. That he didn't...know how to appreciate what he had in you. A woman with so much fire and beauty, so much strength...so much love. But I do. Everything...I have ever wanted in a woman, a life partner, a lover...a mother for my kids..is embodied in you. Do you hear me, babe? You are indeed what I've been waiting for, too..."

"Oh, John..." she sighed. His fingers and, then again, his lips, continued their magical spells over her face and body. She could feel herself getting hotter and dizzier in love with each nip of his teeth on her throat, each gentle pinch of his fingers through the fabric of her bra, each snake of his tongue through her lips.

"And now, look at you, gorgeous. You've given me the greatest gift a man could ever receive...carrying my babies...bearing me children... _my_ children. My seed. Not his...mine...mine...ours. Our babies together...in love. And I am so fortunate to have had the privilege...and pleasure...of making you pregnant..."

"Yes...yes, John...you are my babies' father...the best I could ask for...strong and loving...I'd never had that before..." his words had the effect he had been looking for. She could barely slow her own need to possess him as her man, as her lover, and her hands began to roam from his chest to his belt buckle. Unfastening it and the button of his jeans, she found his erection rock solid, thick and ready.

A sharp intake of breath and a deep groan escaped him before he clenched his teeth and shut his eyes at the sensation too long denied him. The simplest touch of her fingers could set him off. She would never be unable to arouse him.

John continued after recovering from her action. He opened his eyes, and while they were clouded over in deepest need and desire, he was frank with her. "And when I say _my_ children, Joss, I mean Taylor, too. He's my son. Because he's your son...he's mine. I'm his father. Biology...doesn't matter. Love does. And I love him...I love him very much...as I love you, sweetie. I love you..."

Joss stared at him for a long time, marveling at this handsome, sexy man who stood before her and made such a declaration in honor of her first-born child. This man she'd spent months chasing for the law, through murder investigations, bank jobs, knee-capped perps, now stood before her pledging his love and loyalty to a child that he hadn't created.

A fresh round of tears sprung into her eyes, and the look of gratitude she displayed nearly knocked John off balance. It was Joss, however, who quickly put it back on track.

"Make love to me, John. Right now."

Wordlessly, John grasped her head in both hands and landed a firm, hard kiss on her mouth before taking her hand and leading her back to their bed. The covers and blankets were still pulled back from her nap, and he gently lowered her down before removing her bra, leggings and socks. Still clad in her panties, John extended his foreplay by massaging her body, paying particular attention to her breasts and belly, the sensitive nipples swollen and strained against her mocha skin. She moaned as his hands contrasted with the dark of her skin. Pulling at her panties, he lowered them just enough to see the small thatch of hair just underneath the swell, and the visible stretch marks that trailed from her mound just midway up her belly. With his forefinger, he traced them before leaving a kiss on each one.

After several minutes of close and loving attention, it was time. John needed to be even closer to her, to join his body with hers. His jeans, socks and boxers came off, and he shuddered with the realization that this was about the happen, the first time they had made love since he'd returned home in the summer, unaware that he wouldn't be returning to the field, that he was to be blessed a third time in fatherhood. Could it be like the first time they'd joined as one, he wondered. That first time, so long ago now, after HR and Simmons and Quinn, all the vindication for the city he had come to love, and the woman along with it?

No. No, this would be better. A recommitment to themselves, a renewal. It would be the lovemaking of reconnection. In the flurry of birthdays and doctor appointments and basketball games and college scoutings and fevers and bottles and dirty diapers and sleepless nights up with miserable infants and toys on the living room floor they had lost a little ground. It happened to the best of couples. And on that Christmas Day, they would make up for that lost ground. Their little boy lay safely and soundly in his bed. Bear kept watch at the window downstairs. They would find one another again, through love and passion. They would rest—and then find one another once more.

John sank into the bed next to her, finding her lips once more before climbing to the other side of her.

"Turn. Turn over on your belly, babe."

Joss complied. She knew what was next and after having waited so long, she knew what her body was feeling, knew that, she was well and truly ready for him to take her.

Her panties were gently pulled down, and with each tug, John positioned himself to kiss her bottom here, there, everywhere.

Joss claspsed a hand under her belly. The touch of the bed fabric against her tender nipples sent ripples of need through her body.

"Ohhh, John, please..." she begged. Her eyes were wild with pleading, glassy from her previous tears. Her lips, parted sweetly, drew John like a moth to a flame, and he reared up to kiss her, deeply plunging his tongue into her mouth with a groan.

Finding her ready to take him, he positioned himself behind her and slowly found home. His thrusts were gentle, steady, a build up to climax that he didn't always take time for on their first go, so eager he'd be to have her. But this was a time for steady and sure, sweet and gentle.

Their breaths mingled in unison, their endearments filling the air with beauty. He could feel her tighten around him, could feel the sweet wetness that he'd missed, and he fought his own animal nature like a warrior, not wanting to come so soon after those blissfully hot strokes inside her. This love was for the both of them, for their daughter too. He would savor them both. He would savor their time.

They loved and teased and played with one another for hours, even as the winter daylight rode into darkness, even as they could hear their son next door awaken from his nap to play with his toys and sing to himself. He would be fine for a little while on his own, they reckoned. They still needed their time. And they had it. Lord knows they had it.

##

After a few hours in one another's arms, John and Joss rose to visit the bathroom and to get Aaron. They didn't practice modesty then, both of them going to him in to him in their nudity. He was in need of a change, and at that point, in need of a bath again. His happiness at seeing his parents was only rivaled by theirs in seeing him.

John went to the dresser to pull out a new set of baby clothes, socks and a diaper for him, as well as his lotion and diaper ointment. The diaper he wore was soiled, so off it came on the changing table, while John wiped him clean enough to get him ready for the bath tub. For a few blissful moments, while Joss went in to run the bathwater, Aaron got to toddle around in the nursery out of his diaper and other clothing, as naked as his daddy was.

Since it was nearly time to head over to Corrine's for Christmas evening dinner, Joss decided to place a call to her mother as well, explaining that they'd all be a little late, but they were sure to be there as soon as possible.

"I heard what happened today from Taylor. Good thing John was there. That damn Paul," she hissed. She had never approved of Paul Carter, which, at that time in her life, only seemed to make Joss want him more. Her mother never blamed her for her choices, only Paul for being a less than stellar example. She was grateful for that.

"Yeah, Mom. Can we—can we just have Christmas? I don't want to talk about Paul. Maybe after the holidays are all over. But today is about us, about family. Can we just do that?"

"That's fine, baby. You all just get here when you do. Dinner will be ready. Merry Christmas, Jocelyn."

"Merry Christmas, Mom. See you soon. And thanks."

Joss ran the bath water in the large tub. The plan was for all three of them to bathe together. With a little manuvering, and giving Joss the chance to get in the tub first, it was perfectly doable. Aaron was quite keen to splash in the water. It was all good.

After the phone call and tub fill, Joss joined her family in the bath. They bathed and rinsed. They laughed. They blew bubbles at each other, and they gently scrubbed their baby while he found climbing on Mommy's belly an interesting challenge. Kisses were never in short supply for any of them.

It was indeed Christmas Day. Although it had had its tense moments, it was a true Christmas. For both John and Joss had received a gift that more precious than diamond bracelets or any other material thing. They had been given the gift of each other. And tafter everything that had taken place since he'd come home that August, hat gift was rare—priceless, even—for sure.

 **A/N: See? Super long, haha. But I wanted to let John and Joss have a little time to just remove from one another for a little while, to sort of let his first real encounter with Paul settle in, as well as to show his (rare though they may be) his misgivings about how he fits into the whole scenario. Not saying he was being rational about it all, but since all the family connections he's had have had to do with Joss' relationships (save for Aaron, but including Paul), it's been an adjustment for him. And Joss will have to get over her guilt about her marriage not working out for Taylor's benefit. In the years since she began to feel this cloud of guilt, John has stepped up and stepped in, and Taylor doesn't resent her, loves her to bits, as he does John.**

 **After their reconnection, she's begun that journey, but it will take some time to undue years of negative thinking. Lots of things to cover—and since Christmas tends to lend it self to family drama, why not here, haha?**

 **John reassures her. He lets her know where his heart is and how grateful he is for her. I loved writing that part. Something rather primal about it all, as he stakes his claim to her children, including Taylor. Paul stands no chance.**

 **I also enjoyed writing the beginning. Just John and Aaron chillin' at the deli. I also thought throwing a nod back to John's role in the community with the Ali convo, albeit under the table, was important—especially since trouble still lurks in that community.**

 **Well! In any case, I hope you all didn't lose your eyesight taking this one on,. Soon, we'll move into the new year, and the countdown to baby girl Reese's birth. After that? Not sure. We'll see!**

 **Thanks—and as usual, stay tuned!**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: The Christmas holiday wind down for the family Careese, and the countdown begins towards a new life coming into the world in the new year. Just a quick chap to let you all know I'm still here. It's been a full last month or two. Happy spring!**

Christmas night at Grandma Corinne's got off to a late start. John, Joss, and Aaron took a bit of sweet time getting ready to head over, as Aaron had discovered the football Daddy had gotten him and wanted to get in a few 'passes' with his parents in the living room first. John sat down on the floor cross legged to be at level with his son, while Joss sat on the couch and Aaron directed the course of the game. The ball dropped, rolled, and bounced off the table, towards the Christmas tree, and wherever else it would—but each time it landed anywhere, Aaron dutifully toddled to retrieve it—his stocking feet lightly stamping the area rug—handing it over to one of his parents, who proceeded to either hand it back to him, or toss it in his direction.

When he had been lucky enough to actually get hold of the ball without dropping it, his parents celebrated with whoops, claps and laughter, which in turn caused Aaron to break out in happy claps and laughter himself. Thus, the ball ended up falling out of his arms and tumbling over to Bear, who was watching the scene with great interest, but without barking. When Aaron went over towards him to get the ball, Bear sniffed it before gently nuzzling Aaron's legs. Temporarily, Aaron lost interest in the ball, however, as he reached down to touch Bear's nose and gently grab at his head. The two of them were becoming fast friends, indeed.

After a quick hand wash and a snack of cut oranges and unsalted pretzels, Joss got Aaron and herself ready for Corinne's house. John was left to load presents, baby things, extra blankets for Joss, and Bear into the Volvo, as he would be going with them, too.

"Ready to get your snowsuit on again, Aaron? Grandma's been waiting to see you, so I think it's time we got ourselves together. We can play football again tomorrow. Let's have some more Christmas! Yay!"

Once the Volvo was loaded and all the family were prepped for travel, they sat together contentedly, the cocoon like effect of the SUV comforting as John warmed up the engine for several minutes. Aaron cooed and sang to himself while biting on one of his old plastic rattles, while Bear yawned just behind his car seat.

John looked over and smiled at Joss, who was well and truly snug in her warm faux fur trench coat and butter soft maternity jeans.

"Hey," he said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," she replied. "Better. Much better. We needed that, John." Their earlier, potent intimacy was very much on both their minds.

"Yes," he replied, pensively looking at the dashboard and nodding. "Yes, we did. Any chance...?"

"Any chance, what?"

"Any chance we can pick up where we left off after we get home tonight? If you're feeling up to it, I mean. No pressure or anything."

Joss grinned. The tiger had been unleashed from his cage, hadn't he?

"Right. No pressure. Well, I suppose we could make some arrangements towards that end, Mr. Frisky."

"Oh," John said, his eyes widened in epiphany, his voice filled with wondrous mirth. "Yeah, we could, couldn't we? Like, your mom could be a nice mom and keep Aaron for us overnight while you and I have the house to ourselves? Hmm?"

"Well, now, John, I didn't ask her about that when I spoke to her earlier. I don't know."

"I know you didn't," he said, that devilish smirk forming on his face. He was downright sexy when he got his bad ass face on, even then. "But I could gently make the suggestion. You know, throw it out there, see what takes. Corinne loves keeping Aaron, you know that. It is Christmas, too, and little guys like Aaron should always have some grandma time at the holidays. And we...need more time of our own, babe. What we got today was wonderful, amazing after so long—but not enough. Not nearly enough."

"I know that. I've been the one nagging you for a little bit, remember?"

"No more nagging needed. Let's ask her, okay?"

The quiet urgency in his voice, the fire in his green eyes as he spoke, and the way he squeezed her hand as he said those last words made the flush of desire spread throughout her body. It was so different with John. When she was pregnant with Taylor and Paul wanted to be sexual with her, she was never in the mood. He thought she'd completely shut down. But with John, over two children, wanting him had never been a problem.

"We'll see what happens," John said, still smirking and gesturing with his forefinger to elucidate his point. "But again, remember how much Corinne loves being Grandma. And how good she is with him. And how he adores her. A triple win, all things considered."

"And to think you were worried about hurting me and the baby," Joss grinned, shaking her head. "So much for being careful!"

"Dr. Tillman gave us the green light. And I trust her word. Besides, we have a lot of lost moments to make up for. Daddy's just getting started."

"Oh, my God, wild man!" she teased while laughing. "Well, hold your jets for a little while, John. We're almost there."

Aaron, who had begun kicking his car seat from behind, soon dropped one of his block toys, and in his frustration at not being able to reach it, began to fuss and whine.

"Somebody dropped his Duplo. John can you reach it?"

"Sure," John said, while stopping the car for a few seconds to unhook his seatbelt and retrieve the toy. Soon as Aaron got it, he was as right as rain, banging the block on the edge of his car seat tray as loudly as he could, his squeals of delight doing battle against the noise of the plastic.

"Ahh-baaah! Aboooommm-baaaaa!" he exclaimed in joy, almost to deafening effect.

"Aaron, baby, please," Joss said with a laugh, while looking back to see that he was okay. "Mommy's poor ears. You behave yourself back there, before I come and get you. You want Mommy to come back there and get you? Huh, boo? Better be quiet."

Aaron smiled and waved in response to his mommy's sweet teasing. She blew him a kiss in kind. He squealed some more before chucking the toy that Daddy had just retrieved for him at his head. That got Aaron to whining again.

"Eeee myy!," he protested. "Dah-deee! Eeee myyy!"

Once the car merged back into traffic, John mirthfully rolled his eyes heavenward. He stopped at a corner yet again, and picked up the toy before looking back at his now very naughty little boy, his expression part silly, part stern. He showed him the block to make his point.

"You know what, son? I think Daddy's gonna keep it this time. It seems to me that you don't really want your Duplo; you just want to keep us from moving very far. So here it stays. Sorry, pal."

Aaron was initially silent as he listened to his father's reasoning. But the scrunched face, and quivering lip signaled a tantrum in the making, and soon the fussing commenced once more, with his little toddler body now engaged in the act of pushing against the restraints of his car seat belt as he grew more and more agitated. John cleared his throat in an act of mild annoyance, and tossed the toy in the glove compartment before pulling into traffic for the third and final time, with a slight screech of tires. Joss just shook her head and laughed.

"Welcome to parenting a toddler, sweetie. You're learning."

"Oh yeah. Definitely going to hit your mom up for some Grandma time," he said, his voice deepening with a mixture of mischief and desire. When John Reese got an idea about something, the wheels in his head spun hard and fast. And he was determined to continue what they'd started earlier in the afternoon.

Having decided to ignore his son's behavior, within thirty minutes, they had pulled up towards Corinne's small driveway. Aaron finally calmed down once Joss took him out of his car seat and put him on the ground, allowing him free reign to toddle on his own up to the front door, with her coaxing. The sights and sounds of Christmas were all over the yard, the windows, the front door. The closer they got to the house, the better Joss had begun to feel. Christmas at her mother's had always had that effect. She suspected it always would.

##

Once inside, it was indeed magical, the perfect balm against the earlier event of the day.

The food was simple, but welcome; it would just be them that year, and so they had a light buffet with deli trays of lunch meats and cheeses, two different kinds of salad, chips, cubed French bread, and her famous chicken and sweet potato stew with all the fixins. There was also pineapple and dark chocolate cake for dessert. John, having eaten very little after breakfast, was hit with the aroma of the stew from outside, and immediately felt the pang of hunger in his belly. And nobody cooked from scratch quite like Corinne—save for maybe Joss. He would have as much of her chicken stew as he could manage, which, with his propensity, was quite a bit.

They ate first, then opened gifts. Aaron was well pleased with the wooden climber his grandma had bought for him to bring back to the brownstone. It had a small slide and steps, and hideaway tunnels, perfect for a growing toddler to explore and build his little muscles with. The little tyke immediately began to wrestle with the contraption, with his mother helping him up and down the slide. He also got early art materials such as jumbo crayons, paper, and finger paint. There were also new clothes, shoes, a new winter coat, and a new hobby horse.

The day continued on from there, with carols, egg nog, coffee and dessert. Bear was a model for good doggie behavior, and for his reward Corinne gave him a little of the chicken stew. John sat with Aaron on the floor, also helping him with the climber, as well as a few runs of Daddy Airplane and large puzzle play.

When it was time to clean up after a wonderful late afternoon and early evening, Joss helped her mother gather dishes and other items for the kitchen. When they got it all in, both women began the work of dismantling the pile of materials for washing.

"Have you heard from Taylor since this morning?" Corinne asked.

"No. And I'm doing my best not to call him, even though everything in me is screaming to do just that," Joss said.

Corinne sighed. "Damn that Paul. I mean, you have moved on with John, and he has with his new wife, whoever the fool woman is to take a chance on him."

"Thanks, Mom," Joss said dryly, her eyes now downcast as she picked up another plate to rinse in the soapy water.

Corinne, realizing how that might have sounded to her daughter, quickly rushed to reassure her. "Now, Jocelyn, you know that's not what I meant."

"No, it's okay. You tried to tell me about Paul, but I didn't listen. And now, I have a connection to him, through Taylor, for the rest of our lives."

"Sweetie, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. None of us goes into any relationship thinking or wanting the worst. Love often doesn't make sense. You just have to find your way to the other side when it doesn't go the way it should. And you know something?"

"What's that, Mom?" Joss asked while placing a sandwich platter in the dish tray.

"I think you had to go through Paul in order to get the man you really were meant to be with. That good man out there playing on the floor with your son."

Joss stopped and smiled. "Yep. He sure is. The best man in the whole damn world, Mom."

Corinne nudged her lightly with an elbow. "Mmm hmm. So you can let go of all that nonsense with Paul Carter. Because you are worthy of what you have now; you always have been. You are a wonderful mother, officer of the law, and life partner, Jocelyn Williams. Do you honestly think a man like John would be here with you if you weren't? He's crazy about you. He's no fool, girl."

"No. No, he wouldn't. He'd still be out there, on the streets of this city, catching perps, never giving himself time for any kind of love or family life. But he gave that up, Mom. Just like I gave it up. For me. And the kids. I've never had a man put me first who wasn't Daddy."

"Well, there you go. I only just wonder, though, if I should hope for more."

"What do you mean, Mom?" Joss asked, now looking at her squarely instead of the soapy water in the basin.

"Well," Corinne began. "With my granddaughter due in the next few months, have you two ever talked about...taking the next step?"

"You mean marriage?"

"He loves you, you love him. He's a wonderful provider and father to both Aaron and Taylor, and soon your baby girl. He's literally risked his own life for you time and again. I'd say he's in for the duration. Why not make it official?"

Joss grinned while resuming the work of dish cleaning. "You tryin' to get rid of me, Ma? She asked playfully, using the title Taylor used for her instead of "mom."

"No, no, never!" Corinne grinned back in kind. But then, in all seriousness, she continued to gently press. "I just think you're with the man you should have always been with and will be with for the rest of your life. Your soulmate. John. That's him. No more searching, for either one of you. Might as well ice the cake."

"I don't know, Mom," Joss replied. "With everything that's been happening over the past several months with Aaron and the new baby coming, it's not something either one of us has ever brought up. We just kind of live as we do, day to day, you know? We're just trying to get our little girl born, so she can meet her two big brothers, while keeping them all together as well. Marriage has been the last thing from our minds. It's been going well, better than well, even. John and I are closer than ever, just as we have been. Besides, I've already been married, and you and I both know how that turned out."

"John isn't Paul, Jocelyn. And you and I both know that."

"No, he's not," Joss said with a sigh and a roll of eyes. "And thank God for that."

Corinne smiled that knowing smile that mothers smile when the wheels in their heads turn on overdrive.

"Listen, I hear what you're saying, about all of it, baby. But there's no harm in bringing it up. You've got three children now, or will have very soon. Security is a great and needed thing, Joss, which can happen in marriage with the right man. When you get a minute, which is rare, I know, to sit and think about it, maybe-"

At that moment, the swinging kitchen door swung open, hard, and the two women at the sink turned around at the sudden noise to find Aaron, out of his shoes, carrying his favorite teddy bear. Having remembered that the door indeed swung back and forth, he was now invested in having a good time pushing the door to-and-fro, as hard as he could, while running into it. His laughter and joy at such a game simply couldn't be contained. And in its way, it turned out to be infectious. Bear, who watched and waited for Aaron's antics like a hawk, barked in solidarity, each time the toddler bounded out of the other side of the kitchen. John remained in the living room, while humorously cheering his son on and laughing at his antics.

"Push, Aaron! That's it! Push harder!"

"Aaron!" his grandmother exclaimed in mock anger. "What are you doing? Get yourself over here. Aaron! Boy..."

Aaron had heard his name, of course, but ignoring his grandma, along with his mother, was something he was beginning to do. Instead of heeding her call, he found his attention taken by the garbage bin at the side of Corinne's kitchen island. The lid was only half on, since she was going to empty it into a larger bag for collection the next day once all the dishes were settled. Such a scene was simply irresistible to a toddler who had now grown accustomed to exploring his world in ways he hadn't been able to just a few short months before.

"Nah-naaaah! Mmmgaaah!," he shouted while making a beeline straight for the shortening can and egg carton sticking out of the top of the bin.

"Nope, Aaron. Leave that in there. Not for you to play with," Joss admonished, going to him and redirecting his body and attentions—but not before he got the Crisco can out on the floor with a clatter.

"John?" she called out to him in the living room. "Come here and see about your son!"

John sauntered into the kitchen with Bear, a mischievous grin on his handsome face. His green eyes twinkled as he came into the kitchen, his frame enveloping the cozy space.

"Dah-deee!" Aaron bellowed, while pointing to the refrigerator. "Woo dah? Woo dah?"

"That's the refrigerator, son," he replied softly.

"Woo dah?" Aaron repeated, perhaps not satisfied with his father's answer. John's response was to come over to him and lift him in the air for a belly smooch, which of course, sent Aaron into a fit of giggles, wiggles, and squeals.

"You got in trouble with Mommy and Grandma, huh, little man? Huh? Uh oh..."

"Just as nosy as he wants to be," Corinne giggled. "There ain't nothin' in that garbage for you, baby boy."

Bear soon replaced Aaron as the trash can's chief investigator, until he found that there were not sausages or other scraps a dog might want in its contents either.

They stayed on for another few hours, until the late night appeared and the need to get home was undeniable. Aaron had fallen asleep easily on John's shoulder as they watched a Christmas double-feature on the flat screen, and as luck would have it, Corinne had indeed agreed to keeping him for them overnight. He had three pairs of pajamas, one of which he'd already been changed into, and plenty of day clothes to wear there, as well as snacks. The little crib that had been Joss' as a baby was still a marvel of craftsmanship, and Corinne was able to fit it comfortably next to her own bed. Who needed an electronic baby monitor when you had eagle-ears Grandma?

Soon, John gently handed his son over to Corinne with kisses for the two of them, while Joss gathered their gifts, including those for Taylor, and the leftovers basket for the car. They'd come to pick him up in the afternoon, a couple days later. That would give him more time to get acquainted with his new climber. And them a chance to have a few lazy lie-ins and perhaps lunch at a restaurant without needing to check for high chairs.

"Mom, thank you for keeping Aaron. We really appreciate it," Joss gave John a quick glance as she slightly emphasized the _we_ in her comment. John merely looked down at his shoes sheepishly before echoing her sentiments.

"Well, think of it as a free Christmas present to you both. It's always good to have some kid-free time, even at the holidays. And besides, it's not like you'll be all that kid-free, now will you?"

John rubbed Joss' belly in appreciation. "No. No, I guess we won't be. But I think we'll manage."

"You're sure about this, Mom? You don't have anything you need to do without Aaron?"

"Oh, girl, come on. Not really. And even if, it can keep. Nothing is more important than spending time with my grandbaby. He hasn't been over for a sleep night in a long time. He can keep Grandma company for a little while."

"Okay. If you're sure..."

"Joss, your mom is sure," John chimed in. "We should get going. Now. Good night, Corinne."

"Coats are in the hall closet, as always. I'll put this little one down now. Make sure you pull the door to just so in order to get the lock system to activate. Love you two. And Merry Christmas." With that, she quietly tip-toed up the stairs with Aaron, who snored and only stirred to turn his head, his binky bobbing up and down in his mouth.

"Love you, Mom. Good night, baby," Joss said quietly as she waved to the retreating figures up the stairs.

"Yes, ma'am," John said. Turning to Joss, he pointed towards the closet, that devilish glint in his eye having returned. "After you, my love."

##

Once they got home, John checked the home alarm system, as well as any messages on his voice mail. There were a few, one from Harold, one from Shaw in her peculiar fashion, and one from Lionel. Lionel's season greeting had a slight touch of concern to it, as he was calling for another meeting within the next few days. Even the holidays wouldn't let crime take a break in this city.

When those tasks were taken care of, he unplugged all the light fixtures for the tree, and picked up any of Aaron's stray toys from the carpet, as well as a pair of Taylor's sneakers. He sighed. John hoped Taylor was okay. They would all have to try, for his sake, to get on better. He knew what he'd said to himself about letting Paul Carter have a piece of his mind—but on second analysis, and with a cooler head, he knew he had to temper his temper. Taylor had had enough grief. He didn't want to add to the tally.

"John?"

"Mmm hmm," he replied while lost in thought.

"Everything all locked down? Nice and tight?"

"Yep. Alarm system is updated, lights unplugged, Bear's on the case. We should have a solid home at least for the next night or two."

"Yes, our son is with his grandmother. It's practically guaranteed."

John laughed as he sauntered over to her and undid the buttons from her faux fur maternity coat. "I suppose you're right. Mmm, come here. 'Nice and tight.' I think I like the sound of that."

Joss laughed. "You and your dirty mind, John."

Their kiss was sweet, gentle, almost feather light, before he caught her in his arms for a deep and loving hug. The faux fur came off and landed on the floor as he splayed his hands across her full belly.

"Bed, John," she whispered before kissing him again. "Let's go to bed."

"Again, after you, my love," he whispered.

With Joss leading the way, John followed, catching hold of the train of her blouse as they walked up the stairs to their bedroom, the hall light on to brighten the way. Bear followed too, his tail wagging fiercely as he skipped up the stairs behind John and climbed atop their bed, as sure as anything.

"Uh uh, John, no." Joss scoffed. "Now you know I love Bear, but he's not gonna be in here with us tonight, is he? Ahem."

John laughed and lightly kissed her on the forehead. "No, probably not a good idea."

Within a few minutes, Bear would have to face disappointment, as his master grunted and lightly swat at him to scram out of the bedroom.

" _Nee,_ Bear," John said. "Get downstairs, boy! Downstairs! _Ga!_ "

The dog whimpered and hung his head low, but frantically did as he was bade to do, scrambling back to merely stand at the foot of the stairs for a few moments only to hear the door close behind him. A last ditch effort at barking did him no good, and soon, he retreated to the living room for a night time detective session near the Christmas tree. He sniffed and prowled to his heart's content, until he yawned big and loudly, and soon settled into his own bed for the night.

##

They'd made love passionately, yet tenderly, taking their time, taking it easy with one another. John worshipped Joss' pregnant belly with attention and love, while she couldn't keep her hands and fingers out of his luxurious hair. Their positions were, as before, towards Joss' comfort and pleasure, and when both of them were spent, the couple lie back to catch their breaths and revel in the joy of having one another. They laughed and joked and drank holiday toasts, passing back and forth a large bottle of grape juice John had somehow smuggled into their bed withouth Joss' notice.

"My man thinks of everything, doesn't he?" Joss said on a swallow. "Where'd you get this juice from? Don't tell me it was hiding under the bed."

"Brought up when you were in the bathroom to pee for the tenth time," he joked. "Jesus, Joss, you're like a leaky flower pot sometimes."

"Well, maybe next time you oughta take a crack at this pregnancy thing, John. I'd gladly trade places. You should be used to it by now anyway. And you say this while plying me with grape juice. Eleven and twelve will be coming up soon. Hmph," she said while rustling her fingers through his hair.

"Oh, I think you do this much better than I would. You certainly look better doing it," he said softly, while finding her gaze and removing the clip from her hair to let the locks fall to her naked shoulders.

"Hmm, I love you, too, John. So very, very much."

"Ditto, baby. Ditto," John murmured before falling into her arms again for any and all love she had to give him. Their caresses and kisses threatened to ignite the fires again, but after the long day, Joss' body wasn't up for more sex, so they decided to continue passing the bottle and just talk.

A number of issues came up while they snuggled in amongst the blankets. Taylor's well-being was paramount, though they both decided that to bring up Paul in any fashion was a downer to their time in bed, and so shelved that topic, vowing to just be there for their son if and when he wanted to talk about the situation that had happened that afternoon. Discussion soon turned to their baby girl and how they were fortunate enough to be able to have her share nursery space with Aaron, for a time, since his room was big enough, and they didn't have another extra bedroom to create a second nursery in the brownstone. She would, of course, for the first few months, have a cradle near Mommy and Daddy in their room.

"You think Aaron's gonna be good with having a sister?" John asked.

"Well, I don't know," Joss replied. "It was different situation with him and Taylor, since T is so much older than Aaron is and understands better. We've essentially got a situation on our hands where our two youngest kids are basically babies together. You know that. And Aaron's going to be approaching those terrible twos, which I do know something about with Taylor. He's already testing it at almost fifteen months. It's definitely going to be a real ride," she laughed.

"What does Dr. Tillman say?"

"Dr. Tillman isn't a pediatrician, John. Dr. Nichol might have some info, but I was thinking of getting in touch with a child development coach, too. Maybe get a few pointers on how to handle this. There are some workshops at City College we could go to coming up in a few weeks. There are still spaces left."

John wrinkled his nose. "That's doable, I guess. But what about Corinne?"

"I'm an only child, John, remember?"

"Yeah, but she ran a daycare for little guys, right? Surely she'd have some idea about that. I think we should pick her brain when we go over to get Aaron."

"Okay. But I know one thing she'd say we should do right off the bat."

"Oh?" John turned his head to look at her, with raised eyebrows. "What might that be?"

"She'd say," Joss said with a contended sigh and a tickle of fingers across John's belly, "that we should buy a bigger house."

"Really," John replied. "Here in New York? Penthouse suites not exactly your style, Joss."

"And you don't have ten million dollars to get me one, even if," she replied.

"Finch does," he said with a grin.

She quickly poked him in the selfsame belly and pressed her chin into him. "John, no, Harold has been more than generous to us; we are not taking his money for some soulless penthouse apartment with uppity concierge at the front desk. No, no."

John laughed. "Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion. But you know, I have been thinking, and I agree with your mom. We do need a bigger house. Three kids, Joss. This place, as wonderful as you've made it for us, wasn't built with three kids and a dog in mind. Big yard to play in, fence, good schools. That's all very important, especially now that Aaron is getting bigger every day. He'll be starting kindergarten before we know it."

"True. But oh, are we keeping Bear for good now? That's a definite?"

"Well, technically, he is my dog, Joss," John replied. "And he's been good with Aaron and Taylor, just as I thought he'd be. Every boy should have a dog, I think. Harold might appreciate the break. And you'll never find a better security system than our Bear, not even that expensive contraption I spend ten minutes reprogramming at the front door each night."

"Shaw might have something to say about that. But okay," Joss agreed. "We'll start looking around at houses after the new year. Three bedroom, a few acres of land for the kids—and Bear. Wide berth, tri-state area. Long Island, Connecticut, New Jersey..."

"With a pool," John chimed in.

"Pool add more cost to the house, John."

"And more value, Joss," he retorted.

"Our mortgage gets bigger, John. Especially in this region."

"I can afford it, Joss. You know that. And if we sell the brownstone, in this market, we wouldn't have to worry about what the cost of three-bedroom colonial with a swimming pool would be anyway."

She sighed and rolled her eyes with a smirk. "All right, you can have your pool. Teach our babies how to swim."

"Of course. All kids should know. And our kids get taught by an ex-Green Beret. Total win."

"Sure. We do need to stay in the area though. That I won't budge on."

" Of course. Close enough to Mom," John said.

"Yes. And Brooklyn. Selling out from here though...I love this brownstone, John. This neighborhood. Our community. So many wonderful things have happened here. We came to love here, for one thing."

"Yes. Yes we did. We most certainly did," John said with a stroke of her hair and a peck to her forehead. "But don't worry. We'll always have New York, babe. Always."

Their conversations, interpersed with kisses and belly rubs, lasted for hours, almost as if they'd been two old friends who hadn't seen each other for years, until the words became choppy and the yawns became more difficult to stifle. Joss' eleventh and twelfth trip to the toilet did indeed happen, and by the time she'd come back from the last trip, John had turned over and was lightly snoring in the glow of the night light. She smiled and quietly slipped back under the blankets, seeking his warmth with her arms around his chest and belly.

"Oh, John..." she sighed, before kissing his shoulder.

"Yes..." he answered in response.

"What, John?"

"Yes...yes, I'll marry you..."

"John!" she exclaimed with a start. What he heard from her conversation with Corinne? How much had he heard before Aaron interrupted them?

But he said no more. The only sound she could hear from then on was the continued drone of his light snore.

 **A/N: That Aaron is a scamper. But Daddy had a trick for him on the way to Corinne's house, haha. Car scene was good fun. And it was nice to be able to not allow Paul to ruin John and Joss' Christmas. They had a good time with Corinne, and now Aaron is spending holiday time with Grandma. And she gave Joss something to think about when it comes to her future with John. Can't beat that.**

 **So, come the New Year, the Family Careese will begin house hunting, a very good thing. Family life continues to take center stage. But mayhem will rear its ugly head. John reconnects with Lionel, and things get more precarious when it comes to the new players in the drug trade as they encraoch upon precious territory. How much will John be able to really stay above the fray, when it could come to affect people he cares about? Stay tuned, and thanks for keeping up with this long and winding tale. Cheers!**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Back with Chapter 27! A new year is upon the family Careese. Baby girl will arrive in just a few short months, while Aaron continues to grow and Taylor finds his way through junior year. But all isn't smooth sailing. Would it be Careese if it were, haha?**

"Happy New Year to you too, Wonderboy. Oh, and thanks for the Christmas present. Wasn't expecting that. Carter's had such a good influence on you. I'm still likin' it," Lionel Fusco said as he sat down with John over an early lunch at the Lyric Diner.

"You're welcome, Lionel. Hope you didn't spend your giftcard all at once."

Lionel grinned as he took a bite out of his meal, which John promised to foot the bill for as they discussed business. John smirked in kind, as he couldn't help but remark upon the grilled chicken salad and lemon water that made up that meal.

"New Year's resolution, Lionel?"

"Hey, why not? I figure it's about time I cared about my figure, you know?"

"Sure, Lionel. If there's one thing I know about, it's second chances."

"Yeah, well, we'll see how long I can hold out for. This ain't my first ring around the diet pill, you know."

"If you need some help staying faithful, I can rig up a strength training program that will go a lot farther than eating right alone will."

Lionel winced. "Why does that sound like something painful?"

Reese smirked again, the mirth in his eyes unmistakeable. "Because it would be, Lionel. At least for you. But you'd be fine. Trust me."

"Somehow I doubt that."

John's own cheeseburger and fries would have to wait for a little longer, as his phone rang through his and Lionel's banter.

"Hi, honey," he answered to the familiar voice of Joss on the other line.

"Little woman checking up on you," Lionel whispered, chuckling.

John's eyes rolled over to Lionel's and a grin appeared before he continued. "No, sweetie, that's just your former partner being his usual classy self. What's up? Okay...well, can it wait? I'm in the middle of lunch still...yes, babe, I would like to finish it...mmm hmm...what's he doing?"

Lionel continued to grin while working on his salad. He shook his head while the bad ass dealt with his particular domestic issues.

"Put him on the phone, Joss...let...let me talk to him..."

"Oh, boy," Lionel said. "I remember when Lee needed the talk over the phone. Lee wasn't as attentive as Aaron though, at his age."

"It depends on whether or not he feels like being attentive that makes the difference," John replied. "Joss? Yes...put Aaron on the phone...Aaron? Hey, little guy, it's Daddy...mmm hmm...Daddy...you be a good boy for Mommy...okay? All right, little man? Stop screaming...stop...Aaron? Oh, my goodness...you have such a big voice for such a little guy...you be good for Mommy...I'll be home soon, okay? Daddy'll bring you something nice...yes...yes..I'll be home soon...love you, son..."

John waited for a split second before Aaron's mother came back online. He absentmindely fiddled with his fork as they spoke.

"You okay, babe?...yeah, I know. He's just being our son...I'll get back as soon as I can...did you need me to pick up anything else at the market, or maybe something from here, or will the list foods be enough? I forgot to ask before I left...well, you know how much I enjoy Lionel's company, didn't want to leave him hanging...you sure? What? Laundry detergent? Why? I thought we had enough...we're out of Baby Fresh Detergent? I can handle that...his crib sheets and blankets...the soft toys too, that's fine...I'll do the laundry when I get back, honey...no...no, no, absolutely not! Joss, I will do the laundry, just as normal, understand? Because we've talked about this before, Joss! I don't want you walking up and down those cellar steps with a heavy basket of clothes...think of your health...our daughter...doctor and Daddy's orders..no, I will be home in a little bit. Just hang tight, understand? I know, I know...you're amazing, and sometimes it's still hard for you to take things easy, but for your sake and the sake of the baby...okay...leave it to you to try and get all mighty soon as I leave the house, woman...yes, I am laughing, because you're something else, Detective...we'll get Aaron ready and take him for his walk. The cold air should help him settle down before his nap. Bear'll need to go out in a little while, too...no, should be fine. I love you, too, sweetie. Listen, I'm going to get going...tell Aaron Daddy loves him, and to behave, or he's in trouble...okay. Love you...bye."

John silenced his phone, which was a good thing, since Lionel could no longer hold back his laughter, as well as his penchant to tease his friend and former tormenter.

"Never thought I'd live to see Wonderboy tied down to a woman and kids! This is hysterical!"

"Oh, I don't know, Lionel. I quite like it." John said, putting his phone down on the diner tabletop.

"Hey, it beats chasin' killers and muggers," Lionel said, now in seriousness. "If I wasn't divorced, I would have spent more time with Lee at home when he was little. You're lucky."

"Joss needs me. And Aaron missed enough of my being there last year. I vowed that that wouldn't happen again, that my kids would know who their Daddy was. It's challenging, definitely—but I wouldn't give it up for anything."

Lionel wrinkled his nose. "Then I guess you don't need to know about the evidence I got in this file. Since you're so domesticated and all."

John reached for the file swiftly, while taking a sip of his drink. "May I?"

"Sure, hotshot. I know you've been itching to get at it. We've been rather productive on the Dominic front, even if school had been out over the holidays. They just switch tactics a little."

"Profitable endevour. I would expect so," John said, while peering over photos, surveillance transcripts, and other material in the evidence file. He wondered just how much of this collection had been facilitated by The Machine. On surface, the peddlers look as innocuous as can be while at work: shooting hoops, some as members of the school custodial staff, complete with uniform, even school safety patrollers—who still hung around after the children were safely off the buses and into their classes. Nothing would look amiss. But John knew better. And so did The Machine.

"How much will it cost me for you getting this out of the station to me?" John asked while giving the photos his full attention, his green eyes scrutinizing names, dates, charges, all of it.

"Since when have you ever paid me for anything I've ever snuck out of the precinct for you and Glasses? Your assistance on this case is payment enough."

"So, instead of the school courts and the rec centers after hours, they've extended their reach to the shopping centers during holiday hours. Wherever kids are likely to be, they're likely to recruit. This one's risky, though, so I can see why they don't make this a permanent part of their turf."

"This guy you're looking at, Barthomelew Johnson, he's been picked up on an unrelated gun charge. Being held in lock up now."

"What have you got to bargain with, Lionel? If this Dominic is as hard nosed as he'd like to be, dangling Johnson's freedom in front of him won't be enough. In fact, he might think it better to stay inside. Having been foolish enough to be nabbed by the PD won't get him in his boss' good graces. And whether he talks or not, Dominic won't take the chance. Sweeten the pot, Dectective."

"What do you suggest, tough guy?"

John put the photo down, and crossed his fingers before speaking. "Offer him a new start. A new name, new identity. Some cash, a bus ticket, whatever he needs to get out of here. That might do it."

"Wait, John. This guy may just be small potatoes. What you're talking about smacks more of WPP. I don't know if Cap would go for something like that. He gets sprung for evidence. That's it. There's more where he came from."

"Well, depending on what he knows, I wouldn't count out that bus ticket, Lionel. Does he have a lawyer?"

"Court appointed. The usual joke. Dominic's not gonna spring for this. That would implicate him and his high up associates right off. A cog in the wheel."

John sighed and looked past Lionel's shoulder. He was thought about the start of school in the next couple days. Now that the holidays had come and gone, the students of Brooklyn Magnet and other schools in the area would be back in session—and Dominic's crew would be out casing the youth again—including Taylor. So far, he hadn't really spoken about the guys out on the block getting his peers into the drug trade, though John had tried to gently broach the subject here and there over dinner prep or drives to school. If he knew, he wasn't letting on. John doubted that the boy could be that ignorant of what was going on.

He also knew Taylor knew better than to get mixed up in anything like that. But it wasn't enough for John that his own kid was out of the eye of the storm. He didn't want any of the other students of Brooklyn Magnet to fall through those cracks either. And at some point, Aaron would begin toddler care at the extension daycare center. John absolutely would not stand for the littlest children having to see drug dealers on a daily basis. Now that he was a parent, children—his and others—were his top priority.

If it meant he had to pull his guns out of the cellar and back into service, he would. At this point, it was a last resort—but it wasn't off the table.

"You're going to need more than Johnson and the two other suspects picked up over the past few months. How's our chess playing acquaintance been feeling about the new player on the scene?"

"Elias had a talk with Glasses, as you know,"

"Mmm hmm," John replied. "Unfortunately, I was not privvy to that conversation first hand."

"Sick kids with fevers will do that to a guy," Lionel snorted in reply.

John ignored him. "I imagine that he's not happy with this situation."

"Well, you know Elias. With him, it's all about the code of honor and all that bullshit. In his eyes, Dominic is just some unsophisticated kid riding a wave. But all waves have to crest. Basically, he's letting him have his fun-"

"Until he gets tired of that, or until Dominic rides too close to the flame."

"That could happen, John. If he gets too big for his britches, and we don't take him down before then, this has even bigger implications than the kids being in the way of illegal drug sales."

"We could have a situation that escalates into a city-wide war. Yes, I know, Detective," John said, gravely, distractedly, the scenarios playing out in his mind.

Lionel was silent in response, but his heavy sigh did not belie his concern along the same lines.

When he had still been working the numbers, the idea of a turf war involving most if not all of New York City was utmost in his mind. The Machine had been sending messages through the numbers he went out on that would suggest that something might be coming along those lines, but they'd been able to keep a lid on it, or at least at least managed to stay ahead of it. But those old niggling fears came back to him, ever stronger than before, only this time, he was too far out of the field—a man with a family, a pregnant partner, far too many responsibilities at home—to go back to the guns and mayhem that being mixed up with the numbers brought.

All the same, conflict might need to be reckoned with.

"Listen, Lionel," he said, now suddenly grabbing the complete file from his friend's side of the table, "I gotta get going. But thank you for this."

"Hey!" Lionel exclaimed, a piece of tomato in his mouth. "Where are you goin'?"

"You heard me on the phone. Joss and the baby. I need to take Aaron off her hands, while keeping her from doing something stubbornly foolish at the same time. I'll make sure you get this back."

"You'd better, Wonderboy. Suspicion level at the 8th seems to have gone up, not down, since the days of HR. Checks and balances, my friend."

"No worries. You'll get it back, as usual. Keep the change. See ya, Lionel." Throwing down a few bills to cover the meal, as promised, John whisked the file into his leather satchel and went to the coat check before heading towards the door.

"Oh, and you can have my burger and fries if you want them. You were eyeballing them anyway, so go for it," he called back.

"Hey, haven't you been paying attention? I'm on a diet, John!"

But John had already exited before he heard what was said. When John was suitably out of sight, Lionel found his fingers itching for some of those Lyric fries, a personal favorite.

"Ah, what the hell? Happy New Year," he said before shoving three of them in his mouth.

##

After John returned and a few of the disputed loads of laundry were washed, dried, and folded—about three in the beginning—Joss got Aaron a small snack of apple pieces and Cheezy Wafers, in his crib, in advance of the little family heading out for their walk. Bear was also to accompany them, his love of outdoors rivaled only by his love of John and the family.

Aaron had indeed been in rare form that afternoon: throwing his block toys at the dog; fighting his mommy for his sippy cup drink, which then spilled over the throw rug in the living room after he threw it, too; attempting to drag and climb into the fake fern pots near the fireplace; running around the living room and kitchen somehow knowing that Mommy's expectant state made her less likely to catch him, while trying to do his best to remove the childproof barriers that kept him from moving freely; and finally, kicking up a tantrum that even had a barking Bear on edge when his mother, tired of his antics, redirected him right into his playpen. Indeed, that was never what Aaron wanted when he was on a roll of naughty behavior around the house.

He was so cross with his fate that he stomped, screamed, and kicked to the point of nearly knocking the playpen over. Joss, used to her baby's sometimes crabby behavior, just hadn't been in the mood for it that day, and she closed her eyes against the onslaught, her face turned heavenward, the heavy sigh almost as loud as her son's crying. On top of that, the baby in her belly must have gotten wind of the commotion her future brother was causing and decided she wanted in, too. The kick storm and the backache that followed made Joss humorously question what she had let John do to her to get her saddled with two more babies at her age.

She had been never so glad to see him walk through that door as she had then. Aaron had indeed since been moved from the playpen to his crib upstairs, lest poor Bear have a heart attack—and she send him downstairs to the cellar for few minutes for barking about it so much.

"Uh oh," he said, upon hearing the boy upstairs, a bit calmer than he had been, but nonetheless still geared up for trouble, and seeing her obviously strained and frazzled state, ponytail in disarray, saliva and juice stains on her maternity tank top. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. "Do I need to ask?"

"No, you don't. Just come here and kiss me. Watch out for the messy top though."

John obliged her, his lips, chilled from the January air, soon warmed by her return of affection.

"Mmmm," he purred, in between kisses. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'll put these things away and get the laundry started, and I'll deal with Aaron from here on. Go relax, okay? Mmmm, I love you."

"I love you, too. And I'm glad you're home. Not just because of Aaron. I miss you when you're not here."

"Well, Detective, don't let that get out. Your reputation as a bad ass cop and all," he grinned in response, his forehead touching hers, his hands smoothing her hair into place.

"I don't give a damn about my bad ass reputation. I'm glad you're here to help me raise our kids. You're so good at it, everything runs so smoothly, that yeah, I miss you when you're gone. I need you, John."

John swallowed hard at her words. After the conversation he had with Lionel, and the ones he'd been having with Finch, a sense of cold dread rose in his heart. He decided to change the subject.

"Hey, you know, you don't have to come with us on our walk, Joss. I'll take Aaron and you rest your back, okay? I don't want you overdoing it, honey."

"No, no I want to come," she said. "I could do with some fresh air, too. I just wonder if this is Aaron acting out more because the baby will be here soon, and he's sensing that. Maybe he's anxious about it, I don't know. Dr. Nichol said this isn't uncommon when the kids are so close in age. And he's only just getting language now, so he can't tell us how he feels."

"Well, so long as he knows we love him with everything we have, I think he should be okay. Just a stage we have to ride through is all. I'll get out of my coat for now and go play with him for a little while first."

"Good. So, how's Fusco?"

"Oh, he's...Fusco. He's trying to go on a diet. New Year resolution. I give it until the end of the day, if not sooner," John said, laughing.

"Yeah, he tried that when we were still partners. Gym membership and everything. Think it lasted a week, maybe?"

"I don't doubt it."

"Soooo, anything interesting happening in the world of crime and punishment?"

John let go of her body to turn away at that question, taking off his navy blue parka and putting it on the couch. He wanted to tell her what he knew. Wanted to clue her in on what was going down. But he knew her. She'd want to be more involved, would want to confront those responsible. He was not about to let that happen.

Not to mention her attempts to discourage him in doing the same thing, only with potentially graver results. His weapons closet, moved from the apartment on Baxter Street, was now safely under lock and key in the cellar.

"Uh...no, nothing spectacular. Nothing that Lionel and the rest of New York's finest can't handle."

"The city's a lot safer than it used to be, thanks to The Man in the Suit," she said, caressing his back from behind.

John smirked, shyly and turned. "Well, it helps to have a purpose in life, Joss."

She studied his face for a second. "Yes. Yes, it does, John. Maybe..."

"Maybe, what, Joss?"

"I don't know, John. I was just thinking...perhaps, when the kids are a bit bigger, and Taylor's off to college, if we're still living in New York, that I could...well-"

"What, Joss?"

"I don't know. Maybe get my badge back."

"Joss..." John started, the worrying sigh escaping him.

"No, I know. I'm not going back on the streets. Same as with you, no. After everything with HR and how close I came to losing everything, I don't want that. But I could act in some other capacity in the NYPD or some other force. There are a lot of roles to play, lots of career paths to follow, advancement. I'm just...thinking about it. For the first time in a long time, I'm thinking about it. But it is just a thought." She was sure to punctuate that with her forefinger.

"Okay, you're having thoughts," John said. "Thoughts are good. But for now, you need to concentrate on healthy pregnancy, healthy delivery for our princess. Right? Am I right?"

"Of course. But kids do get bigger. And they don't need you as much. Just look at Taylor."

"Oh, Taylor still needs you, Joss. You're his rock, his port in the storm. Can we say that about Paul? I don't think so."

"Paul means well, in his own bizarre way, I guess. Can't change the fact that he's Taylor's dad, just like you said."

John rolled his eyes at that one. He hadn't been called on to pick Taylor up from his dad's house this time, as he hadn't wanted another scene. The number 76 bus was the means instead. John agreed, for the boy's sake. But that conversation, man-to-man was still on the table. John wasn't letting up on that.

"Is Taylor around? Wanted to talk to him about something."

"No, he's spending his last day of freedom with Curtis and Destiny. They're at the Galleria. He'll be home later for dinner. I made him promise."

"Of course. If Destiny is involved, that's exactly where he is. All right, let me go up and see our son. No telling what he's doing up there. C'mere," he said, closing his eyes with a smile and, pulling in for another quick kiss before ascending the stairwell.

"Save that sentiment for later, Detective. Later tonight."

"We'll see just how much energy we both have for that, John," she purred.

Moments later, Joss watched his long denim legs go up from the railing before looking back at the mess her little boy had made. Bear was now freely walking, he too, calmer now that John was home.

She went over to sit on the couch and called him over.

"Our poor Bear. You all right now? I know, Aaron can get scary sometimes, but that's Aaron. I also know you love him, even when that happens," she said, rubbing him behind his ears and stroking his fur. Bear came in closer for the affection, his nose actively on sniff patrol, from her thighs to her tummy and back to her thighs again. That was, at least, until he got bored of that and sought out another amusement, John's leather satchel next to her. He'd found his new chew toy.

She hadn't much paid any mind to what Bear was doing at first. It wasn't until the satchel part way fell open and on the floor that it caught her attention. Leaning over slowly to keep him from destroying it as he had so many of Harold's books, she stopped frozen when she noticed what was inside: an earth-toned file with the NYPD Narcotics Squad logo, emblazoned dead square in the middle.

"What in the world?" she said to herself, as she looked back quickly at the stairwell before delving into John's bag. Inside, she found the contents of the file to be most enlightening. But as she read the details of the case, she found her curiosity turning to anger. And the targets of that anger included John.

"No wonder he was in such a rush to meet Fusco this morning. I mean, why else? They aren't in the field together anymore. How did I know, Bear? How did I know that John and Fusco—and Finch—were up to something? And this could possibly involve Taylor's safety; meanwhile, the man I love, the father of my children, he doesn't say a word. Just like old times, huh, Bear?" she snorted sarcastically, while raising her hands in mock despair. She had just about had it that day.

"Joss? You okay?"

Upon hearing her name from upstairs, she quickly put the file back and replaced the satchel where Bear found it. She decided she'd not let him in on what she'd learned. Instead, she'd do a little investigation of her own. Oh yes. If there was a threat to her son's school community—and possibly his safety—she would know more about it. With or without John.

"Yeah, John, I'm fine. Just commiserating with Bear here. Let us know when you're ready to go with the baby, and I'll get changed."

John's response was to walk down holding a now quieted Aaron. Dressed in baby overalls and "Lil Digger" shirt, with a bib, he babbled and gurgled while mouthing a ducky teething ring. Upon seeing his mommy, Aaron smiled a big smile.

"Aaron here wants to say sorry for being such a pain earlier. Right, Aaron? Say 'I love you, Mommy. And I'm sorry.'"

Joss took hold of him as he continued to babble and coo with the teether.

"I love you too, baby. And I wouldn't have you any other way. No matter what you do." She held him tightly, just over her belly, as she watched John pick up his satchel and put it in the closet.

"Yep. No matter _what_ you do. Or don't."

 **A/N: Well, can't keep the truth from Detective Carter for long, if at all! John is lovingly overprotective (and we love him for it), but he could have let her in on what he'd been hearing from the team about Brooklyn Magnet. Some of that probably stems from his not wanting to break his promise to her about getting back in with the numbers/life on the streets. But then he's breaking that promise anyway by wanting to be involved, to be kept in the loop with the info he gets from his associates. And with stolen police property in their house, he's absolutely slipping back into past practices again.**

 **Next chap may highlight the effect on Joss this new revelation has. Ohhh, boy, haha!**

 **Thanks again, and I hope you all enjoyed this one. Three cheers for Bear, the nosy Belgian Malonois!**


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